


Redeeming Decrees

by ballerinaroy



Series: Redeeming Decrees [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballerinaroy/pseuds/ballerinaroy
Summary: Hermione had all but forgotten her time in England and had not made any plans to return from Italy until one day, unexpectedly, she is given a job offer she could not refuse. Going through a messy breakup which made the circumstances of her return eerily similar to her departure, Hermione accepts. Returning home, Hermione must learn to navigate old friendships particularly with Ron, whom she had never provided a reason for their relationship ending. Meanwhile, a plot looms underfoot which threatens the very sovereignty of muggleborns in the wizarding world. Why was Hermione offered a job in a place she wasn’t looking and for what exactly do they want her back in England?





	1. Homecoming

Staring up at the old home, suddenly Hermione felt nervous. It had been years since she had stepped foot inside, several long years since she had fled England leaving behind everyone and everything she had known. Straight from Hogwarts Hermione had moved to Italy to a too good to be true job and the opportunity to start over, find new friends and make a new life from herself outside of the war and everything which had happened.

At first, she had kept in contact, writing to Harry and Ginny every week. After a time the letters had grown shorter and shorter until she found herself at their wedding and then only exchanging Christmas cards and birthday letters. Hermione had all but forgotten her time in England and had not made any plans to return until one day, out of the blue, she had been given a job offer she could not refuse. Going through a messy breakup which made the circumstances of her return eerily similar to her departure, Hermione had accepted. By the end of the week, she had exchanged letter with Harry and Ginny who had been eager to hear from her then and who’s doorstep she found herself on now.

Beside her Harry cleared his throat, startling her out of her thoughts and Hermione offered him a smile, aware of how long she’d been lost in her thoughts. He’d been kind enough to collect her from the train station and was now watching her with a patient look. “You ready?” he asked.

Hermione nodded, looking past him guilty at the stacks of bags she’d brought with her, the last of her worldly possessions packed neatly into them. “It feels like a lifetime since I’ve been here.”

“We’re so happy you’re back,” Harry said with an easy smile. “I should warn you, Ginny might be a little overbearing, she was beside herself when you wrote us.”

“I’ve missed you both so much,” she told him and they looked at each other condignly for a moment as Hermione gathered her courage, taking a deep breath. “Alright then, sure I can’t help?’

“Go on,” he encouraged, bending down to pick up her trunk. “Ginny’s been watching for you I’m sure.”

Bravely, Hermione had only pushed open the door when Ginny met her, nearly tackling Hermione in a hug. “Hermione,” she said happily, holding onto her and inspecting her once they’d separated. “It’s been ages, how was the trip?”

“Long,” Hermione answered with a chuckle as Ginny wrapped her arm around Hermione’s waist, steering her through an open door. “I swear each time I go the trip seems to double. Maybe I’m just getting old. Thank you for letting me stay with you.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Ginny answered, only letting go once they were in the sitting room. “We really would not have it any other way. Tell me, how have you been?”

“Alright,” Hermione answered, settling down beside Ginny on the loveseat. “Very busy with the move and preparing. I’ll be glad to be settled in. How’ve you been?”

“We’ve been fantastic,” Ginny said, grinning at her friend again. “I’ve just been offered a promotion actually.”

“Congratulations,” Hermione told her, smiling at her and then stopping at the mischievous look on her face. “Only?”

Ginny waited, looking back at Harry who joined them, stacking Hermione’s things by the foot of the stairs. “Only, we’re expecting.”

Hermione stopped, staring at them and then smiled widely. “Oh, I’m so happy for you.” 

“We just found out yesterday, haven’t had time to tell anyone yet, wanted to tell you and Ron before anyone else,” Ginny spoke excitedly, her cheeks flushing with color and looked as if she was bouncing in her seat. She missed when Hermione’s face fell at Ron’s name, looking up at her husband who smiled down at her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re back in England, we wouldn’t want the baby to grow up not knowing you.”

At a loss for words, Hermione continued to smile at her, feeling the need suddenly for a strong drink. Helplessly she looked at Harry who nodded at her, and as if reading her mind commented, “Hermione, you look ready for a nap. Why don’t we show you your room?”

Ginny, looking flushed, nodded. “Right, of course, I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t wait to tell you. I’m sure you’ll want to rest before dinner.”

“I hope you didn’t make a fuss,” Hermione said, looking at Harry again who shrugged, telling her clearly it’d been out of his power.

“Oh no, we’re just having a few people around for dinner,” Ginny told her, jumping up and leading her to the stairs, picking up one of her bags. “Mum and dad’ll be there, they’ve been wanting to see you, George and Angelia of course, and Ron.”

She continued to list off another dozen people but Hermione wasn’t listening. Heart stopped, Hermione looked at Harry who sighed and told her in a low voice “I don’t know if he’s even going to show. Ginny was insistent though, she really wants you two to start talking again.”

“Harry,” Hermione sighed, bending down and picking up one of her own bags while Harry got the remaining two. “I didn’t move back here to get back together with Ron.”

“I know,” he answered calmly, “No one thinks you did. But Ginny wants you back together, Molly does too. It’s just something-“

“I know,” Hermione snapped and then gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry it’s just-“

“Did you hear me?” Ginny called and their attention was turned, looking at Ginny who was halfway up the steps. “I asked if you wanted anything special tonight.”

“Nothing,” Hermione answered quickly, jogging to catch up with her. “I’m happy with whatever you want to make.”

 

Several hours later Hermione found herself sitting alone in the kitchen, rolling her wine glass around in her hand. Well into the party throwing in her honor, Hermione had already made her rounds, telling stories about her time in Italy and talking about her new job at the Ministry. As she was unwilling to talk about her long-time boyfriend, there were few interesting stories she could tell and soon there was not much to contribute to the conversations continuing loudly in the other room. Having not realized all the things she had missed while in Italy, Hermione felt like an outsider dropped back into a life she had left behind long ago. She felt left out of conversations, though she knew if she stayed in one place for too long someone was bound to bring up Ron.

She had seen him at the party to her own surprise. He had come in and then seemed to disappear not ten minutes later. Hermione had not really wanted to talk to him, but found herself hurt he had not even bothered to say hello. It had been years after all since they had they had spoken, and not everything between them had been bad.

Rather than be assaulted by conversation any longer, Hermione had taken refuge in the kitchen under the pretext of fetching more wine. Instead, she had finished off most of a bottle by herself, pouring the last bit into her glass as she contemplated whether or not she would be able to sneak up the stairs and into bed as she wished. The door opening interrupted her thoughts and she jumped to her feet before Ginny could lecture her.

“I’ve got the wine,” she announced, grabbing the empty bottle and turned only to find it was not Ginny who had entered the kitchen but instead Ron standing before her, his mouth half open. “Oh, it’s you.” She sat back down and took a generous drink again.

Ron looked shocked and then pointed back as to make an excuse to leave the room before finally looking her over. “Ginny’s looking for you.” He informed her and Hermione groaned. “Looks like you found the wine alright.”

The air was thick between them and Hermione stared for a moment, feeling quite drunk and finally smiled at him. “Put yourself in my shoes, at a party where everyone wants to talk about you. Only the only stories I have are of my ex who I really don’t fancy talking about.’

“Your ex?” Ron asked, his face dropping.

Hermione looked over in confusion and then laughed, shaking her head. “Angelo,” she told him in a nasty voice. “We dated most of the time I was in Italy.”

“Sounds Italian,” Ron answered, looking at her stubbornly.

“He was,” Hermione sighed, feeling herself getting sad at the mere mention of his name. “Angelo was very Italian.”

“Sounds like a prick.” He continued.

She stared at Ron who looked angry for a moment and then frightened when she didn’t respond. Ron had been on the wrong side of a drunk Hermione before and did not fancy it again, not on the first night she was back at any rate.

“He was,” Hermione sighed again, looking like she was about to burst into tears. “He was so,” she paused, making a sour face and then loudly said “Italian, we had dinner at his mother's every week which was always pasta and he was a snob about his coffee. He wouldn’t go out until he’d tried on twenty outfits and everything had to be this big romantic gesture.” She rolled her eyes, “We couldn’t just stay in and watch the telly, we had to go out and take long walks on the shore. I swear, I dated him for three years I don’t think he once saw me in sweats. And not for a lack of trying either. Oh, and the worst of it was I couldn’t go anywhere without letting him know. I’m all for a bit of chivalry but I can walk myself home at night.”

Ron smiled walking over to sit down beside her, picking up the wine bottle she’d just emptied. “Did you drink all of this?”

She nodded, pulling the bottle from his hands and he chuckled at her. “I just, I wanted a nice quiet evening in, it’s what I was looking forward most to about England, dinner with family. But instead there’s this big party and I have to wear and dress and heels and I just want to eat home cooked food and go to bed.”

“You look nice Hermione,” Ron told her and she smiled at him, looking close to tears again.

“Thank-you,” she answered, hugging the empty bottle to her chest and looked up at him. “You look nice too.” She stared at him for a moment more and then sighed dramatically. “You’re the worst part of it.”

“What have I done?” he asked, leaning forward and they felt dangerously close.

“Everyone wants us back together, or a reason at least.” She told him and he smiled despite himself. “And I don’t want to date anyone. I just moved here, I want to get settled into my job. I don’t want to get married or have a boyfriend.”

“That’s good,” he told her but didn’t move away.

Hermione stared at his lips as he talked, entranced. “And Harry said you wouldn’t show up. And here you are.”

“Here I am,” he agreed, leaning in closer.

“And you look really nice.” She continued, pouting at him. Ron smiled smoothly and she stared at the smile she’d loved so much, the smile she’d missed.

“I didn’t plan on coming,” he told her, “But I really wanted to see you.”

Hermione giggled and then hiccuped, wiggling in her chair until Ron reached out, putting at hand on her knee to steady her. She blushed, staring at him. Once satisfied she wasn’t about to fall over he looked up at her and the moment their eyes made contact she lunged at him, kissing him eagerly and threw the wine bottle to the floor where it shattered.

“Hermione,” Ron said, putting his arms around her to steady her and pulling his face away from her. “Hermione.”

She stopped suddenly, opening her eyes to find he wasn’t kissing her back. Gently Ron set her down and she went full scarlet.Feeling ashamed she turned, muttering something. “I’m sorry I-“

“I have a girlfriend.” He told her as someone cleared their throat behind him. They turned, finding a tall, blond woman staring at them. Ron’d eyes went wide, scampering to her side, putting his arm around her until she shrugged it off. Staring at Ron incredulously, fire shooting from her eyes. “Hermione, this is Annabelle.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Hermione said to her, unable to meet the woman’s eyes. “If you’ll excuse me.” Hermione picked up her wine glass and went past them, hurrying from the kitchen like it was on fire.


	2. Why didn't you tell me?

“Why didn't you tell me Ron had a girlfriend?” Hermione groaned as she sat in the bathroom, hovered over the toilet she had been clutching most of the morning.

“I’m sorry, I thought someone would have mentioned something to you,” Harry replied, walking over and handing her a glass of water. Hermione took a grateful sip and looked pale immediately. “How much did you drink last night?”

“I was forced to go to a party filled with people I hadn’t spoken to in years.” Hermione hissed. “I drank enough to keep myself from rowing with someone.”

“You drank more than that,” Harry informed her, sitting down on the tub’s edge watching her. “Ginny’s not happy with you. I had to practically carry you upstairs.”

“I don’t remember any of it after I kissed Ron-“

“You kissed Ron?” Harry half yelled, jumping up. “He has a girlfriend.”

“Quiet,” she snapped, glaring at him. After a moment Harry sat back down. “Yes, I kissed Ron. I was drunk and we were alone and no one had bothered to inform me he was with someone.” She stopped for a moment before closing her eyes, her color drained from her face once more. “And I’m cross with Ginny too. When in my life have I ever wanted to go to a party let alone one thrown in my honor the day I come off a seven-hour train ride?”

“Ginny’s just trying to be nice,” Harry told her. “She’s missed you.”

“I missed her,” Hermione muttered in a considerably softened voice. “I missed both of you.”

Harry sighed, watching her carefully. “Hermione, you left six years ago. We didn’t like it, we missed you terribly, but we understood and we stood by you. But you can’t just come back and expect nothing to have changed.”

“I didn’t expect everything to be the same,” Hermione replied, looking up at him and bit her lip. “I didn’t even what to get back with him. But I was drunk and he was in a suit and-“ she sighed. “I’ve screwed up everything haven’t I?” He shrugged and Hermione groaned, throwing her head back and resting it against the wall behind her.

“You haven’t screwed everything up,” Harry answered, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. “Besides, Molly and Ginny will be thrilled, they want you and Ron to patch things up.”

“You can’t tell them,” Hermione snapped and Harry rolled his eyes, withdrawing his hand. “I’m serious Harry, Ron has a girlfriend and if he’s happy then he has a right to be happy.”

Harry didn’t say anything, straightening up.

“When did they start seeing each other then?” she asked of him, sensing there was something he was holding back.

“Two, nearly three years now,” Harry answered. “Annabelle is a reporter for the Daily Sun.”

“Isn’t that a Muggle paper?” Hermione asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. “Is she a muggle?”

“Nah, she’s Muggleborn. Well, technically halfblooded but as her father left when she was young and she was raised in the Muggle world and didn’t know a lick about magic until her letter came.” Harry answered. “She’s a correspondent for us, lets us know if there’s anything going on we should know about.”

“Oh,” Hermione said lamely.

From what she’d seen, and now heard, Annabelle seemed like a perfectly lovely girl. In fact, she sounded quiet perfect for Ron. Tall, blonde and surely intelligent to keep such a job. Though she’d not come back to England to reunite with Ron, somewhere in the back of her mind she had to admit she had never ruled it out. It had been a long time since they last spoke, there was no reason they couldn’t have a fresh start. Instead, she hadn’t been in the country a day and already she had messed everything up.

“Are they happy together?” Hermione asked in the same small voice and then looked up at Harry who was staring at her uncomfortably.

“They are,” Harry answered her slowly, sounding restrained. “Well, they were. They’ve been dating for a while. Annabelle wants to get married and Ron’s not quite sure she’s the one she wants to marry.”

Hope bloomed in Hermione’s chest despite herself and she took another drink of water to hide her smile.

“Don’t go telling anyone,” he warned her. “Mind, I really shouldn’t be talking to you about this either.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

They looked at each other for a moment and Harry gave a sad smile. “I’m glad you’re back Hermione but I’m not sure what to do. You were always there, always our best friend. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep any secrets from you.”

“You don’t have to,” Hermione told him earnestly. “Nothing’s changed, I’m still your friend Harry.”

“Everything’s changed,” he answered. “Hermione, I can’t talk about Ron with you, it’s not fair to him.”

Hermione winced and Harry sighed once more. “Come on, Ginny’s making your breakfast.”

“I don’t want to eat,” she told him, putting her hand against her forehead.

“Don’t want to eat or don’t want to apologize?” he asked, standing and offering Hermione a hand.

With a sigh she accepted his help, feeling instantly dizzy the moment she was on her feet. Harry steadied her as she gripped the counter. “You go on, I want to brush my teeth at least.”

“Alright,” he agreed, looking at her skeptically and firmly added. “Come down when you’re done.”

“Promise,” she answered, waiting for the door to shut before falling down onto the counter, burying her face in her arms.

By the time she’d emerged from the bathroom with a fresh face and brushed teeth, Hermione could hear loud voices downstairs. Allowing herself time to put on a fresh shirt, Hermione braced herself and then went down. Ginny was in the kitchen, loudly doing the dishes and arguing with Harry about something. He gave in with a sigh and picked up his newspaper and coffee, swiftly exiting the room. Hermione wanted to enter even less but mustered her courage and stepped into the kitchen. At first Ginny didn’t notice her, mocking her husband under her breath. It took Hermione clearing her throat twice for Ginny to turn and glare at her.

“Sit,” Ginny commanded and Hermione obeyed, dropping into the nearest chair. “I threw a party for you,” she snapped, picking up a town and drying her hands roughly. “And you not only refuse to talk to people but instead decided to get stupid drunk halfway through.” Ginny shoveled eggs and bacon onto a plate as she ranted. “And then, rather than just excuse yourself, you blabber on about Angelo half the night. Who on earth in Angelo?” Ginny slammed the plat down infant of her and looked at Hermione expectantly. “Well? Who is he then?”

Hermione looked up at Ginny and then down at her food sadly. “Angelo’s my ex,” Hermione told her in a quiet voice.

“Did he break up with you?” Ginny snapped and Hermione shook her head. “They why are you ranting about him? And when exactly were you going to tell me about him?”

“Angelo was supported to be a fling, I met him one weekend,” Hermione explained quietly. “Only he kept coming around and we dated on and off for three years. He never wanted to marry me and I don’t really thinkI wanted to marry him either. When I got the offer to come back to England we got in this big fight and I broke it off.”

Ginny softened, going to fetch Hermione a cup of coffee and then sat in the chair across from her, taking Hermione’s hand in hers.

“I wanted him to come with me, I really did. But he wouldn’t hear of it,” Hermione said, tears coming to her eyes. “He stormed out and the next day came back begging me to take him back and how he wanted a life with me. We were all set to come here and then a week before we were supposed to leave I found outhe’d cheated on me when we had our fight and the girl was pregnant.”

“Oh Hermione,” Ginny whispered, squeezing her hand softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“And then I get back here and everything’s changed and-“

Hermione stopped, breaking down into tears. Ginny hurried around the table, pushing a chair close to Hermione’s and hugging her as she sobbed. “And I ruined your party, I’m so sorry Ginny.”

“It’s alright, honest. Maybe a party wasn’t the best of ideas.” Ginny sympathized, looking at Hermione and brushing her hair back. “There there, everything’s going to be alright. He sounded like a prick anyway.”

Taking the napkin Ginny offered Hermione nodded, blowing her nose and wiping her face. “That’s what Ron said.”

“Ron?’” her voice raised an octave and she looked suddenly very excited. “When did you talk to Ron?”

“Last night,” Hermione answered, pulling away and busying herself with her coffee.

“How did it go?” Ginny asked, pulling on Hermione’s arm when she didn’t answer at first. “Hermione, come on.”

“I don’t remember much,” Hermione lied, unable to meet Ginny’s eyes. “I was in the kitchen and fairly drunk when we were talking.” Quickly Hermione picked up her fork and took a bite of eggs, struggling to keep them down as she swallowed.

Ginny opened her mouth to say something more but stopped herself, unable to keep the smile off her face as she went back to doing the dishes. Grateful for the distraction Hermione sat back, drinking the water placed in front of her.

“Mum was happy to see you,” Ginny said in a light, conversational tone her smile still visible. “She told me to tell you-you're welcome to come around for dinner on Sundays.”

“That’s nice of her,” Hermione answered, though made no immediate plans to join the Weasley's every week. “Does the whole family still come around?”

“We’re there every week, I tell Harry it’s because I want to eat mum’s cooking though we both know it’s because my cooking’s still rubbish.”

“Everything tasted wonderful last night,” Hermione offered and Ginny rolled her eyes at her.

“I’m not bad at food like that, it’s making dinner for two that’s hard. When you live your entire life cooking two chickens for dinner, it’s hard to cut down. I burn just about everything.” Ginny told her with a small laugh, “Anyway, we’re there, George and Angelina stop by most of the time, both of them are terrible cooks, though you didn’t hear it from me. If they ever invite you over, offer to bring something or you’ll starve. It’s a wonder George has put on any weight. Percy’s always there, he’s dating someone new and they’re getting fairly serious, she’s nice,” Ginny paused and made a face. “But they’re perfect for each other.”

“Sounds like the life of the party,” Hermione commented dryly, nibbling on the edge of her toast.

“We’ve made it a point to avoid any invitations from them, when they moved in we stopped by and the entire time all they did was talk about the new taxes on cauldrons. Honestly,” she shook her head, draining the sink and began to rinse the pans. “Bill and Fleur are still in France, but they stop by every other month at least. They’re thinking about moving back here so the kids can go to Hogwarts. Victore is all insistent about it, mum’s doing I’m sure.”

“Is Ron there?” Hermione asked when Ginny seemed done, scrubbing furiously at a plan and muttering to herself.

“What? Oh, he and Annabelle stop by sometimes, I don’t thinkAnnabelle likes it very much. She was an only child so it’s a bit loud for her.” Ginny answered absentmindedly, filling the pan with water and set it back on the counter. “I meant to tell you yesterday about her, Ron’s girlfriend.”

“I met her last night,” Hermione said cryptically. Ginny looked at her a shrugged.

“Sorry, I was just so excited to see you some things slipped.” She answered. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Hermione answered. Her headache had subsided and the slice of toast had done her good. “I’m not ready to go for a jog at any rate, but better. Thanks.”

“Eat up,” Ginny nodded towards the plate. “The protein will do you good.”


	3. The Reason

Having not changed out of their pajamas, the Potters and Hermione spent their day lounging around. Harry and Ginny, about ten minutes after breakfast was finished, made up which resulted in a very pleasant mood and Harry making them lunch. They sat in the living room, listening to the wireless and talking about nothing as Hermione read over some of the reforms she’d come from Italy to work on. Likewise, Ginny spent the day going over different charts and diagrams which made no sense to Hermione but she knew had to do with Quidditch. Harry, never one to sit still, flitted about the house, tinkering with things and occasionally sitting down long enough to work on his own paperwork which he was notoriously behind on.

A sigh of frustration caused Hermione to look up and she caught Harry shaking his head.

“What is it?” Ginny asked, looking up from her own work and over at Harry who sat at a desk.

“I was supposed to file this a week ago,” Harry answered, shaking his head. “I don’t remember what Ron put down.”

“You should be doing it with him,” Ginny told him, returning to her work. “If you two don’t sit down neither of you gets anything done.”

“Can I help?” Hermione offered.

“I’m afraid not. This is official Auror business,” Harry told her, “Gawain would have my head if he knew you were reading it.” He frowned back down at his paper and then shook his head. “I’m going to pop over to Ron, see if he remembers.”

Quickly he stood, kissing Ginny and left the room, muttering to himself as he read over the paper. Just as he crossed the threshold there was the unmistakable roar of a fire in the kitchen and Harry grinned. “Speak of the devil.”

“Normally I’m gone on Saturdays and they sit down and do their work together,” Ginny informed her, shaking her head and crossing something out before flipping the page. “I really wish Ron would just come over.”

“Sorry,” Hermione answered and Ginny shook her head.

“And what he said about official order business is just him being a prat. Normally I read his things over, he’d do good having you help.” Ginny continued. Ron’s loud voice could be heard from the other room. “Harry’ll get off his high horse soon enough and they’ll get their work in on time with you around.”

Not having anything to say, Hermione smiled and looked down at her paper. Ron’s voice grew louder and Harry’s answered just as loud.

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked worriedly, putting down her things and hurrying over to the door.

Hermione waited a moment but curiosity got the best of her and she hurried over to where Ginny stood in the hallway, listening in on their conversation.

“I can’t hear anything,” Ginny complained and inched forward, holding onto Hermione’s arm to pull her along.

They moved closer and closer until Harry and Ron could clearly see them though they didn’t notice, enthralled with their own conversation. Ron looked like he’d been crying, his face angry and red.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Ron yelled, throwing his arms down like a child throwing a temper tantrum. “It’s all her fault.”

“Who’s fault?’ Harry asked, his voice sounded strained and it was clear he’d asked the question before. “What’s happened?”

Catching sight of them first, Harry beaconed Ginny over with a jerk of his head. Ginny sighed, dropping Hermione’s arm and going over to stand by Ron, putting an arm on his shoulder. “Ron, what’s happened?”

“Annabelle kicked me out.” He answered, and if on command dissolved into tears.

Looking at each other hopelessly, they guided Ron to a kitchen chair, setting him down and gently Ginny rubbed his shoulder.

“We got into this big fight and I woke up this morning to her packing up my stuff, telling me it was over.” Ron blubbered. “I didn’t even do anything wrong, it wasn’t my fault.”

“What wasn’t your fault?” Ginny asked him gently, leaning in as he muttered something and then jerking back at his breath. “Are you drunk?”

He looked at her to see if she’d understood and then looked over towards Harry, standing hopelessly behind him. But his eyes never made it there, instead, they locked onto Hermione, still standing helplessly in the foyer.

“It’s all your fault,” Ron yelled, pointing a finger at her. “You did this, I was just trying to be nice and then you kissed me!”

Ginny gasped, her eyes growing wide and Ron shook his head angrily. “I won’t forgive you Granger, not after this.”

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it again as Ron began to sob, burying his face in his arms and throwing himself on the table. She watched as he sobbed, Ginny whispering into his ear hurriedly and Harry standing over him, one hand on Ron’s back, staring at her in shame. Slowly she turned and went up the stairs, shutting the door and sinking against it. Guilt washed over her at what she’d done and as she sat alone, Hermione wondered again why she’d even come back.

 

 

A knock on her door startled Hermione and she looked up as Harry pushed it open, wearing a hesitant smile and carrying a tray of food. “Hey,” he said and Hermione beaconed him in, gathering the papers she’d been reading over and setting them beside her. “How are you?”

“I-I’m fine,” Hermione said, putting on a smile and looking up at him. “I’ve just been working on-“ she paused and looked up at him as he set down her tray on the bedside table. “Well, you wouldn’t really be interested in it.”

Harry shrugged, sitting down at the foot of her bed. “I brought you some dinner.”

“Thanks,” she answered with a small grin and reached over, taking a carrot and bitting into it.

“Ron’s asleep, he’s going to be staying here until Annabelle can clean out her stuff,” Harry said, answering her unasked questions. “Uh, Annabelle was in a right fit, she wanted to talk to you but I didn’t think it would be a good idea.” Hermione shook her head at him, unable to come up with anything to say. “She wanted to kick Ron out, but it’s his apartment. Ron wasn’t sober enough to make any decisions.”

“He can stay here, honestly. I can go and stay at my mums until I get a flat.” Hermione said hurriedly, the words not coming out quite the way she’d practiced them.

“Hermione your mum lives halfway across the country, that’s a hell of a commute, even with magic.” He answered firmly, shaking his head. “Annabelle is not getting the flat, it’s been Ron’s since he moved out and she’s not going to get her way.”

Hermione sensed the hostility in Harry’s tone and chose not to comment on it. Hundreds of questions raced through her mind about what had happened and wished she could ask about how they really felt for Annabelle though she knew it wasn’t yet the time.

“This wasn’t your fault Hermione,” he told her looking Hermione straight on. “They’ve been on the rocks for ages. They weren’t going to get married and it was only a matter of time until they broke up. Ron was never going to do it so good for her.”

“It was too my fault Harry,” Hermione answered him in a quiet voice. “They may have been on the edge but I gave them the final push.”

“You didn’t know-“

“Do you honestly think Annabelle is ever going to believe that?” Hermione asked him and shook her head. “No, I didn’t know, but the matter of fact was I should have known and I shouldn’t have done it either way.”

“There’s a lot of history between you and Ron,” Harry interjected but was shut down immediately.

“Harry we were friends for years but we only dated for nine months,” Hermione snapped. “We don’t have a lot of history, we dated we broke up and I moved out of the country the second I had the chance.”

Harry stopped, looking at her, shocked. He opened his mouth and shut it several times before finally looking at her and blurting out, “What happened Hermione?” Shocked by his question, Hermione sat still and then swallowed heavily. “Why did you and Ron break up?” he asked bluntly.

Hermione gave him a sad smile, letting out a long breath and opened her mouth and closed it again. “Harry you can’t tell anyone,” she warned him, looking more serious than she had in years. He nodded but she shook her head, leaning closer to him. “Promise me Harry- out loud.”

“I promise,” he obliged and Hermione settled back against her stacked pillows.

She messed with her papers for a moment and then looked up, her eyes locking onto his. “I was pregnant.”

Unable to help himself, Harry exhaled quickly, feeling as if he had all the air knocked out of him. Calmly Hermione waited as Harry coughed violently. “What?” he asked her, his eyes swimming. “Why didn’t you tell me? What didn’t Ron tell me?”

Harry found himself hurt he hadn’t known. Hurt his two best friends hadn’t bothered to tell him. After all, at the time Ron had even been living under his own roof though neither of them had informed him. He felt betrayed and couldn’t help it as the feeling snuck into his eyes, looking at Hermione with venom and betrayal.

“Ron didn’t know,” Hermione informed him, watching him carefully.

“What?’ he asked loudly and Hermione looked at him pointedly until he dropped his voice. “What do you mean? You didn’t tell him?”

“Harry,” she whispered softly and his questions stopped, looking at her expectantly. His green eyes swam and Hermione sighed, nodding slowly. “I wasn’t even out of Hogwarts yet. I didn’t have a job and neither did Ron. What was I supposed to do?”

“Come to live with me,” Harry provided instantly as if there was never another option. “I would have taken care of you, you know that until Ron could at least."

“Do you honestly think that I, let alone Ron, would have gone along with that?” Hermione asked and Harry shook his head. “I couldn’t have done that to you, have you taking care of me for my mistake.”

“And how many times have you taken care of me?” he countered and Hermione could hear the anger in his voice. “If it weren’t for you and Ron I would have been dead ages ago, don’t even pretend otherwise.” His knuckles began to turn white from holding his hands in fists. “The least I could have done to repay you was by taking care of you for a few months.”

“Harry,” Hermione said calmly, but he shook his head again, cutting her off.

“No!” he shouted out, standing up and began angrily pacing the room. “Hermione how could you?” he searched for the right words, earning him another sad sigh and a patient look from Hermione. “How could you have just given up a baby? We could have taken care of you Hermione, we’re in this together you and me and Ron, always. How many bloody times have you told me that?”

“Harry,” she sighed again but he didn’t listen.

“No!” yelled Harry and he moved until he was standing before her, towering over her. “Hermione you broke Ron’s heart.”

“I know,” Hermione whispered in pain, dropping her gaze at Ron’s name.

“No!” he screamed again, “Hermione you ruined him. And for a child? Hermione we could have taken care of you. We’re in this together, we always have been. And instead, you went and killed your baby-“

At the word ‘kill’ her nerve was back, “Sit down,” she snapped and when he didn’t listen at first, she gave him a ‘don’t make me tell you again’ look and he complied, sitting down on the bed. Hermione moved beside him and asked firmly. “Are you done?”

Harry gave her an angry look and nodded.

“I didn’t have an abortion,” she informed him firmly and then softened in the slightest. “I miscarried.”

The air was knocked from him again and Harry flushed red. “Oh,” he said dumbly, meeting her eyes briefly. “Hermione, I…”

Hermione sighed, taking his hand in hers. “Harry I was 18. I wasn’t done with Hogwarts and I was in a relationship that was really rushed. I loved Ron and I knew that he loved me, but how was I supposed to tell him? I was confused, I was hurt and Ron and I weren’t at the point that we could handle something like that yet.

“I was scared Harry and I knew that Ron would have married me in a heartbeat, but it scared me I was so overwhelmed and didn’t feel like I had anyone to talk to.” She paused, looking down at their hands. “I know that you would have taken care of me. I knew that if I had the baby that we would have worked things out, there was never a doubt in my mind. But I was so overwhelmed, overwhelmed at the thought of marriage and spending the rest of my life with one person. I wasn’t ready yet, so I ended it.”

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, freeing one of his hands and wrapping an arm around her. He wasn’t sure of what to say and before he knew it, Hermione had begun to cry. One question burned in his mind and before he could stop himself he asked, “Did you know you were pregnant before-?”

“Yes,” Hermione squeaked out, closing her eyes and snuggling closer to Harry. “I was going to tell him Harry, honest. I had known for about two weeks and I was going to tell him when he came to Hogsmeade. But one day I was in the middle of class and I fainted. When I woke up in the hospital wing Madame Pomfrey told me that I’d lost it, the baby.” Hermione sniffled, wiping away her tears. “I was confused and in pain and I couldn’t explain it to Ron. So I wrote him a letter and I broke it off.”

“I had no idea,” Harry muttered, hugging her in a tight embrace.

“I never told anyone,” she revealed as he let go of her long enough to grab a tissue which he offered to her. “Professor McGonagall knew and Madame Pomfrey, but…”

“You’ve never told Ron?” he asked in shock but wasn’t surprised when she shook her head. “Hermione, you have to tell him. Hehas a right to know.”

“No,” she protested with a tone of finality in her voice. “No, I don’t have to tell him, Harry. It happened a long time ago and it’s over now.”

“Hermione,” he whispered but she shook her head again, the back of her hair bouncing against her neck. “Hermione-“

“What would it change Harry?” she asked him, shrugging. “We broke up, we’ve both moved on. And now I kissed him and caused his girlfriend to break up with him. I really don’t think that it will change anything let alone make him feel any better.” She sighed, smiling at him. “Harry I told you because you asked, but this isn’t something that others need to know, what’s done is done. I didn’t come back here for the boy whose heart I broke. It’s time to move on.”


	4. Mr. Burns

“This is where you’ll be working.” Said Burns, yawning again.

Hermione arrived in the morning fifteen minutes early for the tour and orientation she’d been told she would be given on her first day. Instead, she’d sat for an hour only to be finally be retrieved by Burns, a short and heavy man who looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed. He told her in short grunts he would be working alongside her as her only co-worker in the policy department of the Department of Magical Creatures. After his brief introduction he turned with no warning and led her on the shortest tour Hermione had ever experienced, leading her from the Department of Human Resources to finalize her paperwork and then back through the atrium to a small office she informed him they’d be sharing. Her two prior trips to the ministry, both very illegal and unauthorized, had provided her with much more of a thorough understanding of the ministry. 

“I’m right over there,” he pointed to one of the desks in the room, stacked high with books and papers all covered in a heavy layer of dust as though they hadn’t been touched in a long time. “If you have any questions,” he muttered but didn’t even bother finishing his sentence, throwing his briefcase on his desk with a resounding thud and sunk into his chair.

“I was told there’d be an orientation,” Hermione protested, trying her best not to sound hacked off.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he told her with a wave, not bothering to open his eyes.

Not for the first time, Hermione found herself questioning exactly why she’d returned to England for this job. They’d been so eager to get her, a man showing up at her office one day to recruit her for a position she shouldn’t have been considered her for several years. But now, sitting in the dusty and forgotten office, Hermione felt conned and wondered why they’d gone out of their way to get her.

Sighing, Hermione pulled her wand and cleared the layer of dust covering her own desk before setting down her bag and pulled a dozen files she had come prepared with. Despite the disappointing start to her day, Hermione was excited to get back to the reform of house elf laws, in her opinion the darkest stain still left on the magical world’s conscience. It was what she was here for after all, what she’d been recruited for. In Italy, Hermione’d eradicated all trace of house-elf slavery, though their use wasn’t as wide or as harsh as in England.

She set to work revising the files she was still translating back to English so they could be put forth for consideration. Hermione forced a smile on her face and set to work.

 

“How was your first day?” Harry asked several long hours later as they met in the lobby outside of the Auror’s office where she’d been waiting for him.

“It wasn’t exactly what I expected,” Hermione answered carefully as they set off together. She did not want to speak too loudly, never knowing who was listening and didn’t fancy making enemies on her first day.

“Right,” Harry answered with a frown.

“How was your day?” Hermione asked, turning her head to look over at him only to see Ron moments before he pushed past her. He did not hit her hard, but the unexpected blow was enough to send the file in her hands flying as she tried to avoid hitting Harry. Not even blinking, Ron walked past them, his head held high as if he couldn’t see the mess he’d made.

“Ron!” Harry called angrily, but he ignored them still as Harry stooped down to help Hermione pick up her papers, snatching the ones about to be stepped on.

“It’s fine,” Hermione told him, haphazardly shoving the papers back into the file. “Harry it’s fine.”

Harry looked ready to chase Ron down the hall but stopped as Hermione tugged on his clever.

“It’s not fine,” he snapped, “he’s acting very poorly.”

If they were alone Hermione was certain these were not the words he would have chosen, but Harry restrained himself. Hermione chose not to comment as they set off again, trailing Ron’s vivid red hair above the crowd as he disappeared around the corner and into the stairwell.

"He’s living in my house, after all, the least he could do it not make a fool of himself in public.” Harry continued.

“He’s made at me and he’s going to stay mad at me,” she paused as they stopped, waiting for a lift. “It’s not something you need to get in the middle of Harry.”

“We’re not children anymore,” he said in a low voice to avoid the eavesdropping people around who all seemed suddenly interested in Harry. “We all have to deal with people we don’t like. He can’t just go around pushing people, not at work at any rate. If someone had seen him he could have-“

“But no one did see him,” Hermione said calmly and Harry sighed, but didn’t continue. “Talk to him if you must, but don’t make it out to be something it’s not.”

He nodded and they entered the lift, Harry reaching up to grab the rail. When the lift jolted them, his arm automatically went around her protectively, steadying her on her feet. Whispers broke out around them almost immediately and Hermione looked up at Harry, startled.

“People don’t recognize you,” Harry reminded her once they were safely in the lobby. “It’s been a long time since the war ended and we don’t look the same.”

“I don’t want to be causing you trouble,” Hermione told him. “Maybe we shouldn’t hang out at work.”

“Stop,” Harry told her. “I have every right to be friends with whoever I want to be friends with. People are going to say what they want no matter what I do.”

“I just don’t want the press to make a huge deal out of it.” Hermione insisted.

“Ginny’s got a couple of friends over there. We manage to keep things quiet, give them a good story once in a while.” Replied Harry with a shrug. “Believe it or not, people like hearing we’re happy and in love. We get enough bad news, people like seeing something good every now and then.”

 

“Is Harry here?” Hermione asked quickly as she entered the kitchen, a folded newspaper under her arm and a rather off looking book in her right hand.

Ron looked up in surprise. “He went to work.”

Almost two months had passed since Hermione’s first night in the country and in that time Ron had done everything in his power to avoid her. After his brief stay in the Potter residence, he’d stopped having dinners over at the home or coming home with Harry every night of the week. It wasn’t until Harry had guilted him into a night out that Ron had found himself in the same room as Hermione again. He and Harry had visited a pub just down the road and when they’d stumbled in at two in the morning, Ginny had deemed him too intoxicated to make his own way home and forced him into the bedroom he’d vacated.

“It’s Saturday,” Hermione replied in surprise and Ron scored at her.

“Ginny has a game and Harry’s worse at paperwork than I am,” Ron replied courtly, doing his best not to allow his anger to seep into his voice.

Hermione nodded but said nothing more, looking distracted as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Letting the books drop to the table across from him, Ron winced, glaring at her.

“Do you mind?” he growled at her, “My head feels like I’ve had a herd of centaurs run over it.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said, looking at him distractedly. “Have you taken anything?”

“No,” he grumbled back in a small voice, returning to his food.

Not picking up her things to leave as Ron’d hoped, Hermione walked over to a cabinet. There was a moment of shuffling and then she slammed it shut, earning another groan from Ron, and walked over to him. “Here,” she offered, holding out a bright orange bottle to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, uncorking it and taking it none the less.

“Hangover cure,” she answered, putting the now empty bottle into the trash for him and returning to her coffee. “Something they apparently only sell in Italy. I bought a crate as soon as I moved back, I don’t know why they don’t sell it here either.”

Instantly, Ron’s head felt clear and was left only with a dry mouth which Hermione cured with a glass of water set before him. Hermione hovered over him for a second until he took a swig and then moved to the other side of the room, looking down at her books worriedly. Ron knew she had something on her mind, worrying her too. Although it was the last thing he wanted to do, Ron knew it would be rude not to ask her after what she’d done for him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ron, doing his best not to sigh like he wanted to.

Hermione looked up at him, startled out of her thoughts. "It’s nothing.”

Bitting his tongue against his cheek to save himself from a quick retort, Ron gave her a smile. “Clearly something’s bothering you, have it out then.”

Nodding she walked over and dropped into the chair across from him. “You’re going to think I’m mad. But I think something’s going to happen.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his curiosity peaked despite himself.

“Well,” she paused, looking over her shoulder nervously. “I don’t think me moving jobs was accidental. I wasn’t searching for a job or anything, but out of the blue this man shows up at work and offers me this great new position I really shouldn’t have been offered.”

“A job in magical creatures?” he asked, “I’m not surprised, they have problems keeping people. It’s just you and old man, Bess?"

“Burns,” Hermione corrected, crossing her arms. “I know people don’t stay in the job. But that’s not the odd part.”

She said him to ask as she sat, looking worried and after a good minute he gave in. “What’s the odd part, Hermione?"

“They’re passing all of my stuff.”

This caught Ron by surprise and he was torn between complimenting her and tearing her down. “I’m not surprised.” He finally settled on. “No offense, but no one really cares about House Elves.”

“Half the Wizengamot owns house elves, and the rest have family who does.” She said in a rush, her eyes growing wider. “These laws, they aren’t convenient, they mean a whole overhaul and spending thousands of gallons on house elves. No one’s asked me for anything either, they’re just passing everything. I can’t figure it out.”

“If not for house elves, why do you think they’re doing this then?” Ron asked her, rolling his eyes and taking a long swig of coffee, watching her from over his cup.

Hermione bit her lip, standing up and wandering back to her books as she summoned her thoughts. “I think they’re trying to keep me happy so I stay here.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed and for the first time, he saw how much fear was in her eyes. It frightened him, but he pushed it down.

“I know it sounds mad, but” she paused again, looking up at him. “I honestly think something’s going to happen.” For a moment longer than needed they stared at each other and then Hermione licked her lips. “I was going to ask Harry if he’s heard anything strange going on. But even hearing it out loud I sound crazy.” She shook her head, sipping on her coffee.

“Look,” Ron said finally. “I don’t think you’re crazy, I just think you’re stressed about your new job and things are not what you’d expected.” Hermione nodded at him. “I haven’t heard anything, but I’ll be listening, alright?”

She gave him a grateful smile and Ron couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks,” she told him, picking up her books and walking towards the living room. She stopped beside him, lingering for a moment as if she didn’t know how to say good-bye. Finally, she settled for putting a hand on his shoulder. “I really appreciate it, Ron.”

Ron watched as she left the room, her head bowed again in thought. It was the first civil conversation they’d had in the two months she’d been back. Feeling suddenly guilty for the way he’d treated her, Ron thought back over what Hermione’d told him. She was right, it sounded crazy. Only, she was Hermione and she wasn’t the type to sound crazy. Dread filled Ron as he wondered if there was truth to what she said, and if so, what could possibly be coming?


	5. The Plot

The moment Hermione had arrived at the ministry she had a sinking feeling something was about to go wrong. Wherever she went she felt she had eyes on her and when she’d turn around people would avert their eyes with giddy smiles on their faces or duck around corners. Positive there wasn’t just one person following her, Hermione made a beeline to her office, locking the door behind her and shutting the curtains. She steadied herself, trying to think of a proper explanation but no matter how she approached it, none came to her. Hermione had tried to be rational since she’d returned to England and after speaking to Ron she had found her worries silly, but now? 

No matter how she tried to work it, Hermione still felt there was something just over her shoulder. Her heart wouldn’t slow and she left the door shut, something she’d been adamant against, much to the dismay of her office partner. An hour later than he was supposed to, Burns arrived, but rather than take his mid-morning nap, he seemed chipper, smiling at Hermione from time to time and even making small jokes. It only made her more uncomfortable so when the clock struck eleven, she’d bolted up from her desk.

“Where are you off to?” Burns asked in surprise, removing his feet from his desk.

Hermione licked her lips, trying to think of a suitable lie as he moved to accompany her. “I’ve got to deliver these files to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Unless you’d be willing to?”

He looked torn and then shook his head, sinking back down into his desk and mumbling something. Before he could have a chance to change his mind, Hermione grabbed a file at random and her bag for good measure and set off. She made it to the elevator before she could hear wheezing trailing her down the hallway and hurried off, ducking into the stairwell and held open the door just enough so she could see outside.

Burns was standing in the lobby with a confused look on his face and scratched his head as he looked around. Positive he’d been assigned to watch her, Hermione waited until he slandered back towards the office before exiting and heading back for the lift. Down two floors she went and then paused, feeling eyes on her again as she walked out and headed towards the Auror Department.

“Can I help you love?” a king older witch asked as she entered and Hermione paused, unsure of how exactly to explain herself.

“Is Harry Potter here?” she asked and the witch smiled bitterly.

“What’s this about then?” she asked, keeping her smile through Hermione could tell this wasn’t her favorite question to get.

“Um,” Hermione faltered.

“Mr. Potter can’t just be seeing visitors, he is an Auror,” the witch told her firmly.

“I know,” Hermione answered. “Sorry, I’m a friend of his, um, Hermione Granger. I need to talk with him about something really quick,” and for good measure added, “or Ron Weasley.”

The witch frowned at her but stood, “I’ll go ask if they’re available to see you,” she disappeared behind a wall and wasn’t gone but a minute before returning, shaking her head. “I’m afraid they’re not here luv.”

Hermione felt the color drain from her face. “When will they be back?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you that information,” she answered, looking at Hermione concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she answered, mouth feeling dry.

“I can get someone else to talk with you if there’s something bothering you,” she offered but Hermione shook her head. “Would you like to leave a message?”

“Just- just let them know I need to talk with them,” Hermione answered, waiting for the woman to write down her information before giving her thanks and exiting, unsure of what to do next. She considered going home, though she didn’t see what would help her there, or even going back to her office, explaining what she’d seen and demanding to speak to whoever put Burns up to this, but before she could make a plan, a voice interrupted her.

“Hermione! There you are,” called a voice from down the hall.

She looked up to find Walter, one of the younger members of the Wizengamot’s staff who’d been eager to help her.

“Burns said you’d come this way. I’m glad I caught you. Listen, I was reading over your first draft and I was wondering if we could discuss a few changes.” Before Hermione could protest he’d beckoned her to follow him down the hall and back into the lifts.

At six, Walter had finally left Hermione, checking his watch and hurrying off, muttering something about a dinner with some foreign representative. She had all but forgotten the events of the morning as she packed her bag, wondering what she might make for dinner. The ministry had an eerie quiet to it as she shut the door to Walter’s office behind her and made her way back to the stairs. When she entered into a hushed silence, Hermione felt as though there was someone watching her and gripped her bag close to her body. The light on the landing below her was out but she could just make out a form as she approached, watching her closely.

“Hello?” Hermione called out but the figure didn’t respond. Hermione reached in her pocket for her wand. She was just about to cast ‘lumos’ when a hand wrapped around her wrist from behind. Hermione turned to find another man had snuck up close behind her, his hand wrapped around her wrist with her snatched wand in the other hand.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he whispered in a threatening way, “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to go this way.”

“I go this way every day,” Hermione told him, twisting in an attempt to remove her wrist from his grip. His grip only tightened and Hermione felt pain shooting down her arm as he pushed her forward to the landing.

Standing in the shadows with a sickening grin on his face was Burns. She had never seen him so alert. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to mudblood.”

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked, still trying to twist her wrist out of the second man’s grip. “I demand-“

“Ah, now Hermione, we’re only doing this for your protection.” He told her, “We’re only here to take you to a safe place until a guardian can come and retrieve you.”

“A guardian?” Hermione stammered. “I’m going home-“

“It’s the law.” Burns laughed. “It’s for your own safety.”

“And since when have I not been allowed to go on my own accord?” Hermione asked and he smiled at her in a way which made her felt uncomfortable.

“This afternoon, it just passed. Mudbloods must be escorted by a wizard from their family at all times, it’s for their own safety.” He said, grinning at her uncomfortably.

“Let’s not pretend it’s for my own safety, you and I both know you’re rounding us up for something else,” Hermione said cooly, and the grip tightened, beginning to lead her down the stairs.

“We’re just trying to keep your safe until someone can collect you,” voiced the man holding her in place told her, chuckling. “With all of these attacks going on-“

“The attacks weren’t random,” Hermione told him, “You wouldn’t happen to have something to do with them, would you?”

“I’m just here to maintain the peace in this time of transition,” he said cooly, pushing her in front of him and she felt his hot air on her skin. “It’s for the better, really. Now, I’m going to take you to a safe holding place until someone can collect you.”

“You and I both knowI don’t have any wizards in my family, who exactly is going to collect me then?” Hermione protested as they got to the first floor and she started to drag her heels when she realized they were going down into the basement, not the atrium as she hoped.

“You can have a husband or a boyfriend collect you,” he said smoothly. “If you have neither, a guardian will be provided for you.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide and suddenly she understood. Firmly she planted her feet and turned to slap him. “I’m not going any further with you.”

“I’m afraid Miss. Granger,” Burns told her, grabbing her wrist in midair before it could make contact. He paused, the glint in his eyes grew worse and he pinned her against him. “You have no choice.”

“No!” Hermione shouted hoping someone, anyone would hear her as she was lifted off her feet by both men, their hands painfully tight around her as she twisted and squirmed in their grip. Her vision went white as the air was knocked out of her and her face stung when the watch on Burn’s watch grazed her face. Her papers scattered around as she beat on his back, desperate to reach her wand stashed in his back pocket.“No!”

“What’s going on?’ a voice boomed from a floor above them, a silhouette appeared.

The man froze, looking back as the person came closer. Slowly red hair was illuminated and Ron came into the light. He observed them carefully and Hermione was shoved to the ground. She rushed to Ron’s side, standing behind him and clutched the back of his robes with one hand. Though she hadn’t noticed at first, Ron was breathing heavily like he’d been running.

“I’m taking Miss. Granger to a safe place until someone can escort her home.” Burns answered, a frown on his face as he straightened his disheveled robes.

Ron looked down at Hermione with a neutral expression and then crossed his arms. “I’m going to take it from here.”

“Are you a relative?” he asked and Ron looked at Hermione carefully, trying to understand the message she was sending to him.

“No,” Ron answered truthfully.

“Then I’m afraid she can’t be released to you-“

“He’s my boyfriend,” Hermione blurted out and Ron nodded. “You said a boyfriend could collect me? Ron’s a pureblood.” She looked at him with eyebrows raised, “He can provide me with a safe place.”

The two men looked at each other, scowling. Hermione watched Burns shake his head furrowed his brow while trying to think of a quick response.

“I’ll need my wand,” Hermione said in a much braver voice than she felt and held out her hand expectantly, taking a step forward but was still reluctant to leave Ron’s side.

“Prove it,” he countered with a nasty smirk.

“How?” Ron asked, frowning.

“Kiss,” he teased, his tone making it quite clear he knew exactly about their past relationship.

Hermione looked at Ron for a fleeting second, worry flashing in her eyes before she stared intently at her shoes. Finding himself vaguely hurt by the action he proceeded, turning to face her, eyes seeking hers. With the pads of his fingers, he tilted her chin up and bent down, lips pressing against each other. The kiss was brief, Hermione gasping in surprise but it was enough. They turned back to the men who wore bitter smiles.

“Very well,” he said, giving Hermione her wand and spitting on the ground, it landing neatly on her scattered papers. “You will want to take her home, who knows what’s out there?”

They turned, making a point to step on as many of his papers as he could and walked down the stairs. The moment they were out of sight Hermione felt like crying, bending down to gather as much as she could. Ron joined her and she stuffed it in her bag, not caring very much about what happened to the papers.

“We need to go,” Ron told her, looking down at her worriedly. Removing his cloak, he put it around her shoulders, drawing up the hood. “Keep your head down,” he warned, wrapping an arm around her and they quickly set off towards the atrium. “Not the floo,” he told her as she leaned that way. “They’re monitoring everything.”

Instead, they went towards the muggle exit, Hermione hiding her face against Ron’s chest when more guards passed them. It wasn’t until they were outside they spoke again, Ron looking at her worriedly as they set off.

“Are you alright?” he asked, arm still around her.

“Fine,” she answered shortly, still feeling dry-mouthed.

“Merlin, you’re shaking,” Ron said, wrapping his arm tighter. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked, avoiding the question.

“We don’t know exactly,” Ron answered, pausing as they waited for the crosswalk. “Harry and I got sent on this really odd mission today, it felt like something was wrong and they were just trying to get rid of us. Next thing we know Kingsley is sending us a patronus telling us muggle-borns are being rounded up and we need to go into hiding. Harry got Ginny and I came to get you. I got to your office and you weren’t there. I was looking all over for you.”

“Walter caught me this morning and I was in his office most of the day, working on revising this house elf law I was trying to pass,” Hermione answered. “We stayed until just about six and I was just trying to leave when,” she paused, fear filling her as she thought again of what had happened.

“It’s alright,” he told her, looking back and nodding. “I think we’re far enough away, hold onto me.”


	6. Ministry Overrun

“They can’t do this!” Ginny shouted, pacing the floor.

In front of her sat Hermione, perched on the couch with an untouched cup of tea in her hands. Since arriving at the Potter’s she hadn’t said a word, still pale and looking shaken. Watching Ginny at the same distance was Ron who leaned against the mantle.

“They’ve cut off woman’s rights,” she continued. ‘They just can’t do this.”

“No,” Ron countered, shaking his head. “They’ve cut off muggle-born rights.”

Hermione’s eyes darted over to him to find him staring at her with a hard set expression.

“They can’t do this!” Ginny yelled again to no one in particular.

“They have,” a voice called from the doorway and the three turned to watch as Harry entered the room, throwing a newspaper onto the coffee table as he marched over to Ginny, wrapping her in a tight squeeze. “It was made official this morning, they tried to round up all of the muggle-borns working for the ministry but we’ve managed to sneak out most of them.”

“How didn’t we know about this?” Ron asked, stepping forward and gazing down at the paper donning the headline: _Ministry Takes Steps to Protect Muggleborns._ “How could Kingsley have let this happen?”

“Someone’s been working behind his back,” Harry answered, letting Ginny go and he took over the responsibility of pacing the room. “They did this all right under our noses. I but you anything they’ve been planning this for months, waiting until both Kingsley and Gawain were both out of the office."

“Who?” Ron asked, sinking into the couch next to Hermione. “Who’s doing this?”

“From what we can tell it’s a group of extremists. They must have been planning this for ages, got people in every department so they can sign off on things.” Harry answered. “Apparently there’s a way around the Wizagamont passing the law if they get the signatures of enough Department Heads-“

Hermione sighed, leaning back against the couch.

“You alright?” Ron asked in a low voice as Harry continued his rant.

At first, Hermione nodded automatically and then shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

Ron stared at her in concern as she buried her face in her hands. Gently he rubbed her back with one hand, leaning in closer to whisper in her ear. “We’ll keep you safe Hermione, I promise.”

Gratefully she smiled up at him for a moment before putting her head back down. Ron looked up to find Harry had stopped talking and was watching with an unreadable expression. Before they could say anything they were interrupted by a patronus, a large dog leaping into the room before stopping infant of Harry.

“We are on our way.” Said a deep but hushed voice.

Instantly Harry nodded in recognition and kissed Ginny on the forehead before leaving the room.

“Who was that?” asked Hermione, looking over at Ginny.

“Gawain,” she answered, standing up and straightening the room. She frowned at Hermione’s untouched cup. “I’m going to make a fresh pot. Eat something Hermione, please.”

Obediently Hermione picked up the sandwich Ginny had prepared and took a healthy bite, swallowing the soggy bread without tasting it. Satisfied, Ginny nodded and left the room, leaving Ron and Hermione alone for the first time.

“You can finish it,” Hermione told Ron who was still watching her carefully. “I can’t stomach anything and I don’t fancy listening Ginny berate me for the next hour.”

Ron frowned at her but picked up the untouched half, finishing it in a couple of bites. Again Hermione leaned back against the cushion, pressing her tubs against her aching temples. “Gawain didn’t say much, do you think we’re being monitored?”

“Yeah,” Ron told her honestly, picking up her tea and drinking most of it. “But Gawain isn’t a man of many words, you haven’t met him yet have you?” Hermione shook her head, looking over at him. “Gawain is very straightforward, he can come off as rude but he doesn’t have the time to lie to people.”

“Do you trust him?” Hermione asked and Ron nodded without thinking.

“Gawain’s a good man, he takes things seriously and doesn’t mess around.” He continued, looking her over carefully. “He’s not someone who I’d go out for drinks with, but he’s a good man.”

They heard the front door open and voices in the hallway. “You might have to go into hiding Hermione, just until this blows over.”

“I don’t want to go into hiding,” Hermione answered stubbornly, shaking her head.

“I don’t want you to either,” Ron told her and for the first time Hermione saw something different in his eyes, the concern was still there, but the inkling of friendship present. “But you have to stay safe Hermione, we can’t live without you.”

He opened his mouth to say something more but Ginny burst in, carrying a fresh tray. Ron jumped back and it was thenHermione realized how close they were sitting.

“Ronald why’d you eat Hermione’s sandwich?” she snapped at him and Ron looked offended.

“She offered it to me,” he answered and Ginny shook her head, straightening her shirt.

The voices grew louder and Hermione sat up as they entered, Kingsley and Harry talking quietly to each other. They stopped upon entering and Gawain trailed them, a serious look on his face.

“Hermione,” Kingsley greeted, putting a smile on his face. Hermione rose and he kissed her cheek. “It’s good to see you again. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop by until now.”

“It’s good to see you,” Hermione answered him with the same diplomatic and strained smile. “No matter the circumstances.”

There was a moment’s pause as Kingsley went to greet Ginny in the same manner. “Right,” Ron said finally, moving closer to Hermione. “Gawain this is Hermione, Hermione, Gawain.”

Gawain crossed over, shaking Hermione’s outstretched hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Miss. Granger, I’ve heard much about you.”

“Likewise,” Hermione answered, “All good things I hope.”

Giving her a rare smile he nodded, “Naturally, as I hope all the things you heard of me were.”

Gawain greeted Ginny and the tea was poured, the tone, for a moment, light. It wasn’t until they were settled in that Gawain cleared his throat, standing beside Kingsley who sat in the chair across from the couch where Ron and Hermione sat, Harry at their side.

“We now know how this happened, but it doesn’t put us any closer to fixing it right away. We’ve removed all of the muggle-borns from the ministry to safe houses, unfortunately, we thinksome might have been taken though we have no way of knowing who.” Kingsley spoke in his deep voice. “We’re trying to get them back to their homes, but some have already been targeted.”

“The man who tried to take me spoke of assigning guardians.” Hermione said, “What did he mean, and how is it even possible?”

Gawain and Harry shared a long look and Hermione felt dread at whatever was to be said next. “We think they’re going to make a forced marriage decree. All muggle borns will be assigned a pureblood ”

Hermione felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. It wasn’t possible, it simply couldn’t be.

“Why?” she heard Ron ask of them, “Why would they want to do that? Pureblood's marring muggle-borns? They’re trying to restrict their rights, it’s the whole point. Isn’t it?”

“What we fear is,” Kingsley paused, unsure of how to put it delicately.

“It’ll give all of the rights to the purebloods, once married they’ll be able to do what they want with the muggle-borns. They can take their money and then,” Hermione paused for a moment, looking away from Ron. “Then they’ll be able to kill them.”

Hermione’d never felt worse, and even as the words left her mouth she didn’t think they could possibly be true. They had won the war, they had fought for a world where this could never have happened and yet it still had. She looked to find Ron had taken her hand in his and gripped it for a moment.

“They’re looking for you,” Gawain said, looking straight at Hermione, sandwiched between Harry and Ron. “All of you, but especially you Hermione."

Nodding, Hermione looked up at him. His stern expression frightened her and he did not blink until she looked away.

“We’re going to ask the four of you to stay here, just until things settle a bit,” Kingsley told them, checking his watch and standing. “Are your defenses holding?” Harry looked over at Ginny and nodded. “Good, I’m afraid we must be off. Someone will be by to brief you in the morning.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Ron asked and Kingsley shook his head.

“Stay here Mr. Weasley,” Gawain told him firmly and Ron nodded at his orders.

Harry stood, seeing the two of them out and it wasn’t until he returned that anyone spoke. Ginny, who had been silent throughout the encounter had a defeated look as she fell back in her chair. Instantly Harry was at her side, sitting on the arm of her chair to fuss over her. He took her hand, kissing it tenderly. Ron’s hand hadn’t left Hermione’s and the four stared at each other in silence.

“Has anyone spoken to mum?” Ginny asked warily.

“Kingsley said he’d sent a message to the order,” Harry answered.

“I’ll stop by on my way home,” Ron told her, dropping Hermione’s hand finally to check his watch. “It’s getting late anyone.”

“Kingsley told you to stay here,” Ginny protested instantly, sitting up in her chair to stop him.

“He meant he didn’t want me going out,” Ron snapped. “I’m just as safe in my flat as I am here.”

“Ron,” Harry warned and Ron shook her head. “You’ll have to go out to get back in your place. You're much safer here.”

“Please,” Hermione whispered to him.

Ron turned his head, looking at her. For a moment they stared at one another and finally, he nodded, shoulders slumping. Hermione could feel Ginny and Harry watching them but she didn’t care as she reached up to touch the side of his face.

“I’ll pop over real quick,” Ron told them, still making eye contact with Hermione. “And I’ll be back. I promise.” Hermione nodded and he rose.

“I’ll go with you,” Harry said, rising from his own perched seat.

“Make sure George has heard,” Ginny called as they exited the room.

It left Ginny and Hermione alone and the latter avoided eye contact as Ginny rose, walking over to sit down next to Hermione. Hermione nodded before Ginny could touch the scratch on the side of her face and stood, gathering the cups in the room, avoiding her friend’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked, following Hermione into the kitchen. “Hermione.”

“If it wasn’t for Ron I don’t know where I’d be right now,” Hermione told her, her worries coming out of her in a rush. “I’m shaking, I’m terrified and deep down I’ve known something was coming.”

“What?” Ginny gasped and Hermione launched into everything that had happened since her return.

Quickly Hermione filled Ginny in on everything she’d told Ron, every odd thing which had happened since she’d been offered the job. As she spoke Hermione moved, unable to sit still as her fears poured out of her. When she finished Hermione’d done the finished and was in the process of scrubbing the cabinets.

Ginny, her silent audience, took a long breath and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, who does this happen to? I thought I was going mad. I told Ron some things but-“ the trailed off, her eyes feeling wet at the memory. “I just thought it was the stress of having a new job and breaking off a long-term relationship and moving. I just want this war to be over.” Hermione sniffled, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. “This is idiotic, honestly.”

“It is,” Ginny agreed, placing her hand over Hermione’s to stop her from scrubbing furiously at a stain on the marble. “Leave it Hermione, it’s been like that for years.”

“I want this to be over,” Hermione told her, setting the rag down and finally looked up at Ginny. “I want to wake up from this nightmare and to live a normal life”

“I want to tell you we will, Merlin knows we deserve it, but-“ Ginny paused, walking around the corner and gave Hermione a hug. “One day it won’t be this bad, I promise.”

Hermione sighed and in the hallway, they heard the front door open and close. She spied Harry and Ron hanging up their rain jackets, talking still in low voices.

“Everything’s fine,” Harry called when he spotted Ginny, leading the way into the kitchen and putting his arm around her automatically. “George sent Angelia and the kids there until this blows over. One of their shopkeepers is muggle born, Delphine, she’s staying there as well.”

Hermione looked over at Ron who was hovering in the doorway, watching his sister and Harry embrace.

“It’s late,” Harry continued, looking over at Hermione finally with tired eyes. “Nothing more is going to happen tonight, we might as well try and get some sleep.”

Gratefully Ginny nodded, giving a weary smile to Hermione and turned to walk up the stairs before spying her bother. “Oh, I don’t have a sheet on the bed, I’ll just-“

“We’ll manage,” Hermione interrupted softly and Ginny looked over for a moment before winking.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Harry whispered in her ear as he hugged her and then followed his wife up the stairs.

Until the master bedroom door was shut, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to look at Ron. Shyly he inched around her as she busied herself washing the counters, aware he was grabbing something out of the cabinet as she heard the clinking of glass.

“Wine?” he asked finally and Hermione turned to find him holding a bottle timidly.

“Is there anything stronger?“

Proudly he smiled at her and Hermione snatched two glasses, setting them before him and then set herself on the same barstool she’d been on the first night she’d arrived from Italy. Filling them both with a healthy drink, Ron sank into the chair next two her watching as she swallowed a large swig, marveling at the burn down her throat.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Ron asked and Hermione glared over at him.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she questioned and Ron sighed, watching as she finished the rest of her glass.

“Because, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, this law was created with you are the target. You were almost snatched today and have hardly said a word since.” Hermione didn’t argue with him, looking down at the counter in shame. “And Hermione,” he added, feeling as though his tone had been too harsh. “We care about you.”

She didn’t say anything at first and when she finally met his eyes hers were shining with tears. “I was terrified,” she whispered, the first she’s spoken on the topic. “He’d taken my wand and was so much stronger than me.” Tenderly she gripped her wrist and Ron took her hand, inspecting the bruises which had already formed.

“If it wasn’t for you I don’t know where I’d even be right now,” Hermione finished and Ron met her eyes, her hand still in his.

Slowly he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back and then the palm, his mouth carefully covering the bruises as if the tender act would make them disappear. Tears began to leak from her eyes and she pressed her hand to his face, his hand resting on her knee to steady her, mirroring the actions of their first night reunited. It was Ron who moved toward her, their lips crashing together.

His mouth tasted of firewiskey and mint, transporting Hermione back to when the war had just ended and they were still shellshocked. Easily he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him back with the same passion. He stumbled and Hermione was pressed against the wall, moaning softly as he grinded up against her.

Her eyes fluttered open enough to look at him, his eyes mirroring the fear she’d been feeling for months.

“Ron,” she whispered and he searched for something, their bodies pressed together closely. “Ron, please.”

“I missed you, Hermione,” he whispered back, kissing down her neck and pushed back the collar of her shirt.

“My room,” she breathed, weaving her hands in his hair, gripping onto him tightly. He peaked up at her, grinning as she slid to the ground. “Now.”

 


	7. Silver Lining

Hermione awoke early in the morning, not entirely sure she’d slept at all. Her head lay on Ron’s arm, listening to him snore. It seemed so unfair, they’d already managed through a war, they’d won, only to have the world end around them again. Though she’d drank far more than she should have, Hermione felt strangely sober, a fresh wave of fear washing over her.

Sitting up, Hermione looked at the clock on her nightside table only to find it was already five in the morning. Unsurprised, as they hadn’t gone to sleep until almost two, Hermione gave up on trying to fall back asleep and rose, slipping on a shirt at random in the dark and pulled her dressing gown from the hook. She emerged from her bedroom, stepping over their scattered clothes and shut the door behind her quietly. Downstairs, Hermione found Harry, already awake and sitting in his chair, reading the morning paper which had somehow been delivered.

“Hey,” Harry greeted her, looking worried. “You alright?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Hermione told him, avoiding the real question.

Hermione knew Harry, unlike everyone else, would not pressure her. Instead, he rose, passing her the paper and exited to the kitchen. She was half-way through the article when he came back, handing her a cup of hot coffee. The article, as expected, didn’t say much other than overviewing the effect the new laws would have on muggleborns.

“Thanks,” Hermione said, accepting the coffee and threw the paper down. “Did you sleep at all?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I feel like we should have a watch. I know we’re safe here but,” he paused and then added in a whisper. “This feels like war.”

Hermione nodded, taking a sip of her coffee and pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re alright Hermione?” Harry asked, staring at her exposed shoulder. “You look pretty banged up.”

Surprised, Hermione looked down and blushed, covering the marking with her hand. “That was Ron’s doing."

“Ah, so that’s where my firewhiskey went,” Harry was unable to hide his smile. “Ginny’ll be pleased, Molly too.”

“Molly won’t be either. This doesn’t mean anything,” Hermione told him firmly. “We’re not back together or anything it’s just," she paused for a moment, unable to explain the desperation she’d suddenly felt since this all had begun. “This feels like war.”

His smile disappeared. “They’re looking for you and Ron,” Harry told her in a serious voice. “They’re saying you resisted and ignored a direct order from a guard, falsifying your relationship. And they’re saying you assaulted him.”

“I wish I assaulted him,” said Ron from behind Hermione. He looked as if he’d just woken up as he came around the couch, falling down next to Hermione. He wore nothing but his boxers and a shirt he’d pulled from Hermione’s drawers which was much too tight on him.

“I didn’t know you could be up this early.” Harry quipped as Ron lounged against Hermione, his feet propped up against the far arm of the couch.

“Did I wake you?” Hermione asked worriedly, offering her coffee which he took.

“Nah,” Ron answered, though Hermione knew he was lying. “I couldn’t sleep and when I woke up you weren’t there.” He stopped, shaking his head and took a long drink of coffee, choking on it. “Merlin, since when do you take your coffee black?”

“I’ve taken it black for ages,” Hermione answered as Ron settled down, putting his head in her lap. “Bedside, the coffee in Italy is much stronger than this.”

“Anyway,” Ron said with a sour look on his face as he turned back to Harry. “How’d you find that out?”

“Gawain came here at three looking for you,” Harry replied, “He looked like he hadn’t slept so I put him upstairs. I don’t think he’ll be here for long. They’ve put Kingsley at the Burrow for a night, they’re afraid someone might try something against him.”

Harry ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up every which way. “I don’t like this.”

“There’s nothing we can do. Unless someone manages to get their hands on the actual document we have no way to repeal it.” Hermione replied, a frown on her face. “Until we figure out who’s in charge of this then there’s nothing we can do.”

“How do we go about doing that?” Ron asked, and they both looked at Hermione expectantly.

For a moment she sat quietly in thought. “If they wanted to overthrow the government then by now someone would have announced themselves the leader. Since that hasn’t happened, we can presume one of two things, either they only want to eliminate the muggleborns or,” she paused, thinking it through. Ron sat up, staring at her worriedly.

“Or?” Harry asked her, and the look in her eyes made him dread the words coming next.

“Or,” she said, letting out a long breath. “Or, eliminating the muggleborns is only the first step.”

They all looked at each other, thinking the same thing through unable to say it. Finally, Ron did, sitting up to look at them both. “If this is only the first step, then what’s coming next?”

“And how on earth do we stop them?” Harry finished, both looking to Hermione as if she’d hold the answer.

As helpless as they, she responded. “I have no idea.”

 

They spoke about it for perhaps an hour more, but no matter what they tried, they were unable to come up with any new ideas. When the conversation had recycled it’s self for the dozenth time Harry had finally given in, shaking his head and looking down at his empty coffee cup longingly.

“I’m going to take Ginny a cup of coffee, see if she has any new ideas,” Harry said, standing up and stretching. He looked over at Ron and grinned. “Gawain is going to be up soon if he isn’t already. You might want to put pants on before he sees you.”

Ron scowled and then shook his head. “I would if I had any, but seeing as I’m confined here-“

“Come-on,” Hermione told him forcing him off her lap and standing. “I’ll find you something.”

Begrudgingly he stood, picking up their coffee cups and putting them in the sink before following her up the stairs. They crept past the master bedroom and the shut room that they suspected Gawain to be in, careful not to wake anyone at an early hour. 

“How are you?” Ron asked once safely inside Hermione’s room.

“I really wish that everyone would stop asking me that,” Hermione answered, opening her drawers and fishing through them for a minute. “I’m fine, honestly.”

“That’s not what I’m asking about,” Ron told her and she turned to find him lounging on her bed, a very ‘Ron Weasley’ look on his face.

Hermione chuckled despite herself, finding the pair of pants that she’d been looking for and threw them at him. “We’re going to need to talk.”

“Yeah, but not right now,” Ron argued, catching the pants and laid down, inspecting them. “Hold on a second, are these mine?”

With a blush she came, sitting down on the side of the bed she normally slept on. “Yeah, you let me borrow them to me one weekend when I was home from Hogwarts. They got in with my wash and-“ she stopped, feeling Ron’s eyes on her.

The truth was she’d made a point to keep them. Though impractical, Hermione having to roll them a dozen times just to keep herself from tripping over them, Hermione’d kept them and put them on when she was sad, something that always made her feel better. Ron didn’t question her further, pulling them on and taking off his shirt, handing it to her.

“Got anything else? As much as I like suffocating,” Ron said sarcastically. Hermione shook her head, taking it and put her wand to it, putting an expanding spell on it. The shirt stretched out slightly and Hermione handed it back.

“How’s that?” she asked, watching his muscles ripple as he put it back on.

“Much better,” he answered, and she knew from the look on his face that he’d caught her staring. “Thanks.”

Hermione nodded, crossing her legs and facing him.

“You look tired,” Ron told her, staring at her with a concerned expression.

“I don’t think I slept much last night,” she answered him, letting out a long breath and put her hands on her head for a moment, feeling her hair that had been put up into a bun. “I’m terrified,” she confessed to him, “This feels like war. Only this time, I have no clue how to win it.”

He offered his arms and Hermione moved to him, cuddling at his side and laying down. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked and Hermione shook her head. “Do you want to talk about something else?”

“No,” she answered him, laying a hand on his chest and looking up. “Because I’m not ready to talk about us and there’s nothing else for us to talk about.”

“Alright,” he agreed, picking up a strand of her hair and twisted it in his fingers. “How about I tell you a story instead and you go to sleep?”

“I don’t think that I’m going to be able to sleep,” she answered with a yawn.

“I’ve always been able to talk you to sleep,” Ron countered.

In the months that they’d dated, Ron and Hermione had discovered a hidden skill that they’d never really told anyone about. On the nights when they couldn’t sleep, they’d talk to each other about the subject that the other enjoyed the least. It was a sure way to put each other to sleep and towards the end of their relationship they’d used it nearly every night. Ron would always tell Hermione that he was hoping to learn something from the reading of A Hogwarts A History, but the truth was he liked listening to her talk, something that Hermione found exciting though he found it so very dull.

“I don’t want to be asleep when Gawain wakes up,” Hermione protested with a fond smile at the memory of Ron reciting quidditch matches move by move. “I have some questions,” she paused to yawn and Ron nodded.

“I’ll wake you up,” he promised and Hermione nodded.

They settled in, Ron pulled up a blanket around them both and he rested his head on his arm while Hermione nestled on his chest.

“I managed to see a few games last season. So this will be a play by play by yours truly.” Ron started and Hermione grinned at him. “Cannons vs the Tornados. It was a windy spring day-“

Hermione didn’t make it a quarter way through the game before she was fast asleep on Ron’s chest. Unable to move her, Ron simply watched her sleep for a moment, pushing away her hair that’d slipped from her bun and into her face. While Ron understood why she didn’t want to talk about it, but it was killing him.

Annabelle had told him once that it was harder to go back to old relationships than to start new ones. When they’d first met, she’d just broken up for the fourth time with her boyfriend of six years. When he’d questioned her, Annabelle had told him just that. New relationships you entered without any expectations. You get to meet the person for the very first time, find out about them and what excited them and annoyed them. It was a journey and it was half the fun. But with old relationships, you enter expecting them to be the same way that you left them. But that wasn’t always the case. You missed the fun of discovering someone for the first time. The magic of the first few months was already used up.

What people never seemed to realize was that people changed. Just because someone was one way when you left them didn’t mean that they’d be the same way when you entered again into their lives. Annabelle told him that when she left her boyfriend had been a heavy drinker. And whenever she got into a relationship with him she’d expected him to be a heavy drinker. But somewhere along the line, he’d changed. Annabelle kept looking for that, that fight that was just around the corner. When it never came she made it up.

As Ron stared at Hermione he was filled with questions. He wanted to be with her. Always, wanted to be with her. After she’d left for Italy for years he’d dream that she’d show up in his doorway telling him what a mistake she’d made. When Harry and Ginny’s wedding rolled around and they’d slept together he thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d stay. But when he woke up in the morning she was gone, no note, no anything. Still, he’d dream of letters or visits when she’d come back and they’d finally be together. But they never came and one day he looked up to see Annabelle who’d come in every day and sit on his desk and decided finally that she just wasn’t coming.

He’d never really understood why they’d broken up. When the war ended he figured that it was it, they were together. Ron’d known that he was going to marry her. Two months before she was supposed to graduate, he woke up to a letter on his bedside telling him that it was over. No one knew what’d happened. Ron was smart enough to give her space but when he’d showed up for graduation she wouldn’t look at him in the eye and it was there he learned that she was going to Italy. He’d never been given a chance at redemption, never an explanation of what he’d done wrong.

And after all this time he still wondered what’d changed. But now more than ever he wondered what would have happened if she’d never left. If they’d patched it up at her graduation or if nothing would have ever changed. His own eyes felt heavy as his mind thought of all of the possibilities. Would they have figured this out sooner? Or would it have never happened?


	8. Confinement

A knock on the door started them awake and Hermione bolted up, yawning. Ron groaned, rolling over and hurried his head into his pillow.

“Who is it?” Hermione called out, looking at her watch.

“Oi, are you up?” Harry’s voice called. “Neville’s were, he wants to talk to the both of you.”

“We’ll be out in just a minute,” Hermione answered and they heard Harry’s muffled response through the door.

“It’s already eleven,” Hermione told Ron, rubbing her arms from the chill before getting out of bed and pulling on her dressing gown. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Must’ve dozed off,” Ron yawned, peeking out to see her smiling at him. Positive that she wasn’t mad, Ron let the cover drop and then shivered as well. “Oi, you don’t happen to have a sweater of mine?”

Hermione looked at him guiltily for a moment and went to her closet, pulling a Weasley sweater out and walked over to his side of the bed, handing it to him.

“You’re brilliant,” he said rather than teasing her and pull off his shirt and the sweater over his head. He too stretched and threw back the covers, watching as Hermione went to the mirror, sighing at her hair. 

“I should have showered,” she told him, taking her hair down and it going every which way.

“You look fine,” Ron told her, walking over and bending down to look at himself in the mirror. “I’m going to use the loo.”

Hermione waited for him to go before she let out a long breath and stared at her reflection. She hadn’t been alone since it had all started, hadn’t the time to process what was happening by herself. Looking at her reflection, Hermione suddenly understood why everyone was asking her if she was alright. During the struggle the day before she’d been scratched on the face, from the man’s watch she could only suppose. As she reached up to touch it, Ginny’s healing charm already having greatly reduced the effects of it, her sleeve fell and she could see the dark bruises on her wrist from where he’d tugged at her.

As of that moment, Hermione had no rights, not even a claim to her own wand in the eyes of the law. It was like it was in the war, only worse because this time they’d somehow made it actual, proper law. Quickly Hermione composed herself, putting her hair back up in a bun and wiped down her face.

When she passed the bathroom Ron’d already left, hurrying Hermione down the stairs. Ginny stood in the kitchen, stacking the plates from a breakfast that had apparently just finished.

“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked at the sight of her and Hermione shrugged.

“I’m alright,” Hermione answered, looking over at Ron in the other room, eating a piece of toast and laughing at something that Neville had said. “Gawain still here?”

“He slipped out while Harry was in the shower,” Ginny told her, drying her hands and walking over. “Do you want anything to eat?”

Hermione shook her head and Ginny sighed, looking at her worriedly. Before Ginny could comment on the marks on her neck, she turned and said. “Let’s get in there then.”

“Hermione!” Neville called at the sight of her, standing and she walked over to greet him.

After the war, Neville had matured even more. Any baby weight left was lost and he was one of the leaders on the project to rebuild Hogwarts. Along with Harry and Ron, he’d gone through Auror training and remained an Auror, though he’d told her that he was considering changing to something now that things had calmed down. They’d spoken very briefly at the party Ginny had thrown, but it’d been after Hermione had gotten so drunk that it was all a haze.

“It’s good to see you,” Hermione said as he let her go and kissed her on the cheek. “How’ve you been?”

“Alright,” he answered, sitting back down as Hermione joined Ron on the sofa. “I’ve just been telling Harry and Ron about how I proposed to Hannah-“

“Oh, congratulations!” Ginny called, sitting on the arm of Harry’s chair. “You should have called me in.” The last comment was directed at Harry who grinned guiltily.

“I’m afraid that it’s not that good of a story,” Neville answered with a sheepish smile. “I had this dinner planned at this muggle restaurant that Hannah likes, only they lost our reservation. We waited around for an hour and I’d handed the ring off to the waiter, only I’d eaten something that made me sick. The waiter came out with the desert, gave it to the wrong table and when we’d finally sorted it out, I was in the middle of asking her and threw up all over her shoes.”

Guilty he looked at them as Ginny gave a sympathetic smile.

“All said and done she said yes,” he said, smiling, “we both ended up sick in bed for the weekend, but it was alright. It’s a very me thing to do.”

“Don’t say that,” Hermione said kindly and he shook his head.

“Hannah’s words, not mine,” Neville told her. “You’ll all be invited of course. We’re looking at next spring.” He paused for a moment. “Well, we were, only with all of this-“

The air in the room suddenly seemed much thicker and he shook his head, looking up at Hermione worriedly. “It’s alright,” she told him and felt Ron take her hand. “Tell us what you’ve heard.”

“There’s about half a dozen reported missing, we think that there’s about twice that, but it’s hard to get information right now. Everyone scared and hardly anyone came into the ministry this morning. Robards is operating the Aurors from the safe house in Bristol, we’re going into work in shifts so we’re not considered contempt but Martha’s the only one who’s going to be staying there all day.”

“Who’s Martha?” Hermione whispered to Ron.

“She’s the secretary, the one that took your message the other day,” Ron answered in the same low voice as Neville went on about what Aurors were stationed where. “Don’t worry, she’s tougher than she looks, was an Auror for forty years. Retired for a couple of years but couldn’t bear to be away. She’s been there since before we’ve joined, keeps us all in our place.”

“We’ve managed to figure out how it happened,” Neville continued, “We’ve got a list of signatures at least, though most of who we’ve talked to don’t remember signing it or were told something else.”

“Have you gotten a copy of the law yet?” Hermione asked and he shook his head.

“We’re working on it, but we’re mostly trying to keep people safe.” He answered. “The Daily Prophet's been taken over, they won’t talk to us. Someone’s been threatening them apparently, making them print what they want. People are terrified, just like before.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Harry asked and Neville shook his head.

“Robards wants you to stay here. In fact, he told me to tell you that you’re not to leave the house for any reason. You’re all wanted for questioning, but we all know what that means.” He paused, checking his watch and sighed. “I’d better get going, is there anything that you need?”

“I hate to say it,” Ginny said, and they all turned to look at her. “But I was planning on running to the store today.”

“It’s no trouble, Hannah won’t mind, and we’ll stop by tomorrow,” Neville told her, “Mind making a list? If you tell me I won’t remember half of it.”

“Come on,” Ginny answered, standing and going to the other side of the room where Harry’s desk sat and pulled out some scrap parchment. She worked for a moment. “Harry, do you have any money on you?”

“I’ll get my wallet,” Harry answered, and went from the room.

“You alright?” Ron asked Hermione once they were gone and she looked at him frowning. “Alright, alright, you just have this look on your face.”

“This is a mess,” she answered, turning to face him. “Until we get that document then there’s nothing we can do to repeal it. Only-“

“What?” Ron asked of her and Hermione glanced back at Ginny and Harry who’d run back in, making comments. “What’s wrong?’

“What if there isn’t a law?” Hermione asked, looking worriedly at him. “Think about it, even if it took them ages to get all of the signatures there were bound to be people who would actually read something before they signed it, or have someone read it for them. They might have had people in every department, but not all of them could have been right-hand men. Look at my department, Burns was most certainly their man only Callaghan wouldn’t have signed anything that he put in front of him without reading it over first.”

Ron was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Maybe there was more than one? Burns might’ve just been there to watch you.”

“I don’t think they have that many people,” Hermione argued and Ron nodded. “What if there isn’t any law?” she questioned, tugging at his hands to get him to listen as Harry and Ginny began to talk loudly about what type of cheese they wanted. “Ron what if there isn’t a law, what if there’s nothing?”

Visibly Ron paused, staring at her. “If that’s true, how are they doing this?”

“Fear,” she answered, the air from her last breath filling her cheeks before she slowly exhaled. “They just decided to do this and-“

“And everyone’s too scared to fight back,” Ron finished. Hermione nodded hurriedly. “Let’s wait a few days, something’s bound to turn up.

“What if nothing does?” Hermione asked worriedly and looked back to find that they finished the list and were walking over to them.

“Give it a few days,” he told her again. “If you’re thinking it, someone else has-“ Hermione opened her mouth but Ron shook his head. “If they haven’t, then when Robards comes around you tell him, alright?”

Not looking happy with his prerogative, Hermione nodded none the less, putting the conversation behind them. After Neville left they spoke again for a few minutes, but everything had been said. Finally Ginny stood to start lunch and Hermione joined her, unable to sit still for much longer. For the rest of the day they didn’t talk about it, eating snacks and listening to a game on the wireless. Hermione read a heavy book that she’d bought weeks prior and Ginny knitted something for the baby while Harry and Ron played chess. If anyone had looked at them it would have been a typical weekend.

Ginny finally made them get dressed for dinner and they sat at the table. After they drank and Hermione taught them a card game that she’d learned in Italy. No one asked Hermione how she felt and it wasn’t until Harry started yawning that they all realized how late it’d gotten.

“We’ll clean up,” Hermione told Harry as he started to pick up their glasses. “You two go on.”

Her cheeks were flushed from the wine that they’d been drinking and she laughed drunkenly as Ron stumbled when he came back in from the loo. Ginny tugged on Harry’s sleeve, winking at Hermione when she wished them goodnight.

“Why’d you volunteer me for cleaning?” Ron asked, falling into the chair he’d been in all night.

“It’s only a few dishes,” Hermione answered him, dumping Harry’s unfinished glass into hers and began to sip from it. “You can go take a shower if you’d like.”

“Nah,” he answered, standing back up with a groan. He took the now empty glass from her. “You’d better go shower first. You take longer than me.” She considered arguing with him but allowed him to take her wine and stack the glasses in the bowl that’d been filled with chips earlier. He ate the last couple and waved her on. “Go on then.”

“Don’t break anything,” she called as he dumped the glasses into the sink, clinking.

Obediently she went up the stairs, rushing into her shower, already hearing the pipes running from Ginny. Not wanting to miss out on the hot water she showered quickly and then wrapped a towel around her body, turning to stare at herself in the mirror. With her hair dark and skin pale after cooling quickly from the hot water, Hermione could clearly see all of the marks on her body. The marks on her neck stood out to her most and Hermione shook her head, covering them with one hand. The scratch on her face had nearly healed and Hermione made a mental note to ask Ginny to look at it again in the morning. Drying her hair the best that she could, Hermione put her dirty clothes into the hamper and, grabbing her wand, left the room, wishing that she’d brought clothes with her.

Ron was already in her room, his hair wet and he wore the pants that he’d been wearing all day and was shirtless. He turned when he heard her come in and blushed. “Sorry, I was just changing the sheets.”

Hermione knew exactly what he was doing but didn’t say anything, grabbing fresh clothes and went to the closet to change. When she exited Ron was still there, fussing with the blankets. She sighed, drying her hair with one of the towels. “You can stay.” She told him and he grinned, pushing back the covers and sat down. “But we’re not going to talk about it.”

“Fine by me,” he answered, setting his wand onto the bedside table. “You didn’t have to change in the closet either.”

“And this doesn’t mean that we’re having sex.” She snapped, throwing her wet towels over the door to dry.

“I didn’t think that we were,” Ron answered, causing Hermione to shoot him a look. “I didn’t, honest.”

She turned down the lights and climbed into bed beside him, sitting up and began to braid her hair. Ron’s hands were on the back of her neck nearly instantly and Hermione turned to glare only to realize what he was doing. Over Christmas break they’d started sleeping in the same bed, staying at his place much to his mother’s disproval. During that time Ron’d discovered that Hermione slept in braids every night after she’d showered to keep her hair in check. Ron had been fascinated, so much so that he’d insisted on Hermione teaching him. He practiced nearly every night until he’d gotten so good that when Hermione went back to school she missed having him do it for her.

“Got anything to hold them?” Ron whispered and Hermione realized just how close that he was to her. She held up her wrist and he took the band, looping it around her hair and put his hands on her shoulders for a moment when he finished.

“I’m tired,” she told him, turning to look at him and Ron nodded, looking at her worriedly for a moment. “I really wish that you’d stop looking at me like that.”

His fingers went to her face, gently running a finger over the red mark on her face. Softly they trailed down to the marks on her neck.

“That was your doing,” Hermione told him and he grinned, hand taking hers and he inspected the fading bruises. “You don’t have to be so worried for me.”

“I’m always worried about you.” He answered her again and Hermione shook her head at him. “I mean it, Hermione, I’ve been worried about you from the moment I met you-“

“You were a prat when I first met you.” She countered, pulling her arm away.

“Doesn’t mean that I wasn’t worried about you,” he told her and Hermione visibly rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ve been worried about you from the moment that we became friends, even if eleven year old me didn’t know how to properly show you that I was worried.”

“Alright,” she accepted it, laying her wand down on the side table and settled down. Ron joined her, laying close to her. “Ron,” she sighed and he scooted back. She turned to look at him as he turned off the light and in the darkness, they looked at each other for a moment. “I’ve been worried about you too,” she answered when she felt him pouting beside her, laying on his back with his head turned. “I just-“ she paused, and he nodded.

“I know,” Ron answered and she moved closer, Ron wrapping an arm around her and she lay on him. “It’ll be alright Hermione, I promise.”

“And if it’s not?” she asked of him. Gravely he kissed her on the forehead.

“You’ll always be alright Hermione,” he told her seriously. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”


	9. The Note

Two weeks had passed since the law had been declared, and while for a time the four had enjoyed their time off from their respective jobs, it was clear they all were itching to do something, never ones to be sitting ducks. Seeming to realize this, Gawain attempted to relieve their boredom but sending over someone once a day whether it be Neville and Hannah who entertained them with bar stories, and mixing them drinks they’d never heard of, or Gregory, a now-retired Auror who had his own stories of the war and new card games to teach them. After a time, however, their visitors seemed to have an opposite effect. Rather than entertain Harry and Ron, it only made them want to be out there more, fighting to discover who’d made these laws and do everything in their power to stop them. Ginny, with one hand over her belly, was always able to stop them, distracting them with chores and tasks though they all knew it would not hold for long.

“What’s that?” Harry asked as Hermione unrolled the paper George had dropped off on along with their weekly rations.

In surprise, Hermione looked down to find a piece of folded parchment which had fallen out of the paper. “That’s strange,” she said as she hesitantly bent down, frowning at it.

“Don’t touch it,” Harry hissed, jumping up from his seat and hurried over.

“It’s just a note,” Hermione answered, pulling out her wand none the less. Quickly she checked to make sure there were no curses or jinxes, but as she’d suspected, it was simply an ordinary piece of parchment. Satisfied she picked it up, unfolding the paper to find a short note scribbled on the inside.

“Hermione, Mountsfield Park 11 o’clock west entrance.” She read aloud, sinking into the chair beside her.

“Who’s it from?” Harry asked, and Hermione shrugged, handing it over to him.

“The writing’s familiar,” she said, trying to think exactly where’d she’d seen the neat handwriting before.

“Whoever it is, it must be a trap,” Harry said, flipping it over twice and looked at her worriedly. “You can’t go.

“What’s a trap?” Ron asked, coming downstairs with a yawn.

“There was a note for me in the paper,” Hermione told him and Ron hurried over, taking the note from Harry and read it.

“You can’t go.” Ron echoed Harry, looking white-faced and worried.

“I wasn’t thinking about it,” she snapped, taking the note from his hands and reading it over again.

“Who’s it from?” Ron asked and Hermione shook her head.

“I know I’ve seen this handwriting,” she said, turning the note over in her hands again. “Recently, it must be someone at work.”

“Burns?” Ron offered and Hermione shook her head.

Both Harry and Ron glanced at one another, watching her worriedly. With a furrowed brow she thought back to everyone whom she’d been working with. She didn’t feel it was someone in her department, and she looked at the back of the note where there was a printed number and the corner of a small insignia. Twisting the paper she squinted.

“241,” she muttered, trying to make sense of the small insignia. Hurriedly she hopped up.

“Where are you going?” They both asked, following her up the stairs and into her bedroom.

“I’m not positive, but,” she muttered, looking around for her work bag which had been untouched in days. “Do either of you see my bag?”

Joining her in the search they all looked around for a moment before Harry found it, tucked behind her door. Hurriedly she pulled out the stack of papers, searching through the printed document until she got to a page towards the middle. “Ah!” she shouted, matching up the corner of the insignia to the matching one in her own document. “Walter.”

“Who?” Harry and Ron asked in unison as she showed them her work.

“Walter, he’s on one of the Wizengamot’s staff. He’d been helping me revise the Magical Creature’s code to include slavery as one of the-“

“’That’s great and all,” Harry interrupted her before she got going. “But why would he want to meet with you?”

“It’s clearly a trap,” Ron answered before Hermione could even open her mouth. “He must have some sort of ties to the law getting passed. The git.”

Hermione felt Ron’s jealousy surfacing again. Clearly, Harry picked up on his tone as well and they both stared at him in surprise for a moment, huddled around the document.

“He’s not evil,” Hermione defended, “He’s just ambitious. Besides, I was working with him the day the law went into place. I was in his office, remember? If he was working for them, don’t you thinkhe would have grabbed me instead of letting me leave?”

Ron blushed, muttering something.

“You can’t meet with him Hermione,” Harry repeated coldly, shifting his gaze from Ron. “If he’s ambitious, then wouldn’t turning you in be a great victory for them?”

“I don’t think he’s trying to turn me in,” Hermione said, taking the note from Harry’s hand and turning it over. “Look at the address, that’s in muggle London, crowded muggle London no less, if he wanted to take me he wouldn’t do it in broad daylight.” Unable to come up with an argument they both stared at her. “He clearly went to a lot of trouble to get this note to me. What if he’s in trouble or something?”

“Then he could go to an Auror!” Ron answered quickly causing Hermione to glare at him once more.

“Like you, three should be doing,” a voice from behind them said. All three turned around to find Ginny standing in the doorway, glaring at them with a hand on her hip.

Guiltily Hermione thought to hide the papers though she knew it would be no use.

“Ginny,” Harry said, his face drained of color, “It’s not like we were planning on-“

“Oh really?” she asked, walking over and took the note from his hands. “It’s only two hours until he wants to meet. Don’t tell me the three of you weren’t about to start plotting a way to sneak some polyjuice and then go stake him out with two of you under the invisibility cloak?”

The thought had formed in Harry’s mind.

“Ginny-“ Harry tried again.

“What were you even going to tell me Potter?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “Or were you just going to hopeI didn’t wake up until you were gone? Which I very well might not have if the three of you didn’t run up the stairs sounding like a pack of hypprogriffs!”

They all stared guiltily at her and muttered “Sorry,” in unison.

For a moment longer, she stared at them with thin lips and then shook her head. “Well, go on then, one of you better go off to the Burrow and get in contact with Gawain, we don’t have much time.”

Surprised they looked up at her and she looked at them expectantly.

“We’ll be right back,” Harry said, beckoning Ron with a jerk of the head and kissed the side of Ginny’s head, though she didn’t look pleased with them still before they were off.

In silence, Hermione and Ginny stared at one another. Finally, a smile broke on Hermione’s face. “I wish you’d started hanging out with us earlier, you’re the only one who can keep him in line.”

“Damn straight,” Ginny answered and then cracked a grin herself. “I’m going to get dressed, I expect half the department will be here soon.”

By the time Hermione had gotten dressed and made it downstairs, it seemed indeed half the department was there, buzzing around and all talking quickly. The moment she was spotted, however, the room quieted and she felt everyone watching her as she scanned the room. The weeks since she’d last seen Gawain seemed to have taken a toll on him. With tired eyes he beckoned her to where he stood with Harry and Ron, going over the document she’d show them earlier.

“Potter and Weasley have already filled me in,” he said to her as she looked down at the paper which somehow had already been filled with notes on the situation though he couldn’t have been there for five minutes. “You don’t believe this was done with ill intent?”

Hermione shook her head, telling Gawain about her interactions with Walter and specifically about the day the law had been put into place.

“Why do you think he wants to meet with you then?” Gawain asked of her.

“I’ve no idea,” Hermione answered, it had been all she’d thought of in the short time since realizing it was from him. “Maybe he just wants to help.”

“You think we should meet with him?” he asked of her and Hermione quickly nodded.

“We don’t have any other leads,” she answered, “He works for the Wizengamot, the least he could do is provide us with some information.”

Gawain nodded but didn’t say anything more. The room watched him for a moment. He seemed in deep thought and then nodded. “Can you give us a description of him?”

“He’s about Harry’s height, blonde hair, long chin, quite handsome,” Hermione said, refusing to look at either Ron or Harry. “He always dresses well, though if he’s meeting me-“

“That’s good enough,” Gawain interrupted and looked over to a group of wizards. “Go on then, we’ve got about an hour, see if you can get there before he does.”

Without another word, a group of about a dozen people who were dressed in plain, ill-fitting muggle clothing walked over to the counter where Hermione could see dozens of vials there, neatly organized and filled with what she instantly recognized from her own adventures as polyjuice potion. Checking to see they were grabbing the right one, each picked up the vial and drank it, half transformed as they stepped out onto the doorstep.

“Betsy?” Gawain asked next as only half of the popped were out of the room.

A woman, who was just taller than Hermione and with short blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail stepped forward. “Hi,” she said with an easy smile, extending a hand for Hermione to shake. “I’m going to be you,” already Gawain had turned away, talking to Harry and Ron who stood in a group with Neville and another half dozen people. “Is there somewhere we can go and talk?”

Hermione nodded, looking back at Ron who smiled uneasily at her, before leading her up the stairs.

“Sorry it’s a mess,” Hermione said, pulling up her bed and shoving some things into a pile. “I’m not usually-“

“It’s alright,”Betsy answered with a wide smile, sitting down beside Hermione. “Now, we don’t have a lot of time, but I’m going to try and figure out how to act as much like you as I can.”

Uneasily Hermione smiled.

“Don’t worry,” she assured, “Just act natural like you’re talking to a friend. Does he know you well?”

“We’ve worked together on a few projects,” Hermione told her, thinking back. “But he's very observant.”

“It’ll be alright,” she answered, as Ginny appeared in the doorway.

“I thought I heard someone up here,” Ginny said, andBetsy grinned, walking over to greet Ginny. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, all things considered,”Betsy answered in the same friendly manner she’d addressed Hermione. “Look at you, you’re huge.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ginny nodded, patting her quickly growing stomach. “Anyway, I’m not trying to interrupt I just wanted to stop in and say hi.”

“That’s alright,” Betsy answered, and then looked back at Hermione and grinned. “Actually, would you mind staying? I’m going to be Hermione, it might make it easier if I could just observe.”

Ginny grinned and joined Hermione. Aware someone was watching her, Hermione did her best to act like her normal self, talking with Ginny freely and moving around the room at Betsy’s request. It didn’t take long for Betsy to catch on, adopting her mannerisms so much so that when Hermione took her turn observing she felt strangely like she was looking into a mirror. Ron, Harry, and even Neville joined them briefly, making small comments on Hermione’s mannerisms she hadn’t even noticed herself. It felt like an exhausting process, though she knew no one had ill intent. When they’d only a quarter of an hour until 11 Gawain watched for a moment before approving.

“Do you have something I could borrow?”Betsy asked, turning to Hermione who’d been pushed to the back of the group. “Whatever you’d pick to wear, though if you’re wearing something he’s seen you in before-“

Hermione nodded, walking over to her closet and picking out an outfit with the help of Ron. She finally settled on a jumper and jeans along with a jacket she’d worn to work once considering it was raining outside. The room emptied and Betsy changed before joining them back downstairs. Though she’d yet to take the potion she already acted so much like Hermione she had to take a double take when she spoke. She took the potion with only a small grimace and then before her eyes, another Hermione stood in the kitchen. Having never seen herself before Hermione stood there, staring. Betsy watched Hermione before adopting a slightly apprehensive look.

Though she’d spent well over half her life in the wizarding world, this had to be the strangest experience. It was even worse when Ron, who’d been sitting in the other room, walked back in and was completely confused as to which Hermione was Hermione.

“They’re back,” Gawain said as he walked into the room, but even he didn’t know who to address.

“Would you wear makeup to this?”Betsy asked as they walked back into the other room.

Hermione shook her head, still too stunned to speak. Sensing her uneasiness,Betsy smiled. “Would you mind fixing my hair?” and before Hermione could answerBetsy sat down. With shaking hands she walked over, considering how she would wear her hair, before deciding on a braid. Her hands shook as she worked with her hair, unable to concentrate enough to make the braid even.

“This is him?” a man who’d previously left to case the meeting site, asked of Hermione.

He showed her a photograph of Walter sitting alone on a bench, hand in his coat and looking quite unlike his normal collected self.

“Yes,” Hermione answered.

The room whispered for a moment and Gawain checked his watch and nodded. “If you sense any trouble-“

“Stun first, ask questions later,”Betsy along with the rest of the group answered, clearly not the first time they’d had this conversation.

“Off you are,” Gawain nodded, and the room cleared leaving only Gawain, Neville, along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

In silence they sat, waiting.

It didn’t take five minutes for an Auror to appear, looking serious. Gawain rose, waving everyone else who stood with him, and talked hurriedly in the hallway with Betsy and the man. He finally looked back and nodded, the man disappearing again.

“Walter made me the moment I sat down,”Betsy said the moment she entered. “I told him it was too great of risk but he will only talk to you.”

“What did he want?” Hermione asked.

“He has a message but refused to say anything more.” She answered, frowning and sitting down. She looked only like Hermione in appearance alone now.

“Miss. Granger-“

“You can’t be serious,” Ron said quickly. Gawain turned to him, looking unimpressed. “She can’t go.”

“’Not your decision Weasley,” Gawain answered firmly. Ron didn’t say anything more, but Hermione felt him lean closer to her protectively. “Miss. Granger,” his tone was much softer now. “Do not feel obligated. I can only assure youwe will do everything to ensure your safety andwe wouldn’t send you there without the belief it is safe.”

Without glancing at Ron or Harry who were clearly trying to get her attention Hermione nodded.

“You had better switch clothing,” he told her and Betsy if anyone was watching we don’t want to tip them off.”

 

Walter sat on a worn bench, wearing a worried look. As she arrived, sneaking through the crowds he glanced at his watch and looked as though he was having second thoughts. Carefully she approached, sitting down on the bench next to him. He noticed her after a moment and then stared at her with narrowed eyes.

“Is it really you?” he asked and Hermione gave a nervous glance around before nodding.

“Why did you want to meet with me?” she asked and he frowned once more.

“I could get in a lot of trouble for this,” he told her and Hermione’s eyes darted around. “I shouldn’t-“

“You went through a lot of trouble getting a note to me,” she hissed quickly, feeling like he was about to dart. “Just give me your message. We can offer you protection.”

He looked at her, considering it, and then shook his head. “I don’t want anyone to get suspicious.” He looked sorry and stared at her. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened.”

His hand slid out of his pocket and for the briefest of seconds, Hermione thought she was about to be stunned. Clearly, the Aurors surrounding her thought so too, pulling out their wands as a brown package emerged and he handed it to her. Hermione accepted the package carefully, it was quite heavy and Hermione was certain it contained a stack of papers.

“Is this-“

“You’re the only one can stop this,” he told her hurriedly and then grabbed her wrist. “Tomorrow the notices are going out after that you won’t have much time. They’ve enacted dark magic, no one is safe. Unless you can find a way to protect yourself, they’ll come after you, no matter the protections. You have to find yourself a way to get a waiver otherwise-“ he trailed off letting go of her wrist.

“What are they planning?” Hermione asked him, he frowned and then looked sadly at her.

“Making an example out of you.”


	10. The Decree

The sun was rising and the house was still full of people. From the momentHermione’d returned to a very worried Ron and Harry, they’d gone to work, making copies and pouring over the document at Hermione’s direction. It was thick, and Hermione had yet to go through it once. Just as diligently as she, Harry and Ron read, circling things they thought important. 

A hand on her shoulder startled her, having retreated to her own corner where she sat against the wall, the law beside her, reading it and taking notes at random, trying to make sense of it. Ron stood there, offering her a hand. Hermione smiled weakly, closing her notes and accepting his hand, standing up and walked with him to the kitchen, stepping over Betsy who had long since transformed back into herself and was asleep on the floor, the law covering her face where she’d fallen asleep reading it.

Inside the kitchen Harry and Ginny stood, talking in low voices and smiled as they walked in. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to talk as they handed her a cup of coffee and stared at her. She felt ill, and now more than ever it felt like they were in the middle of a war. She’d hoped the document would provide her with answers, someplace to start, but she’d only had it for hours while the people who’d written it had the unfortunate advantage of time. More helpless than ever, Hermione felt seconds away from bursting into tears.

“You alright?” Harry asked and she nodded distractedly.

They settled into chairs around the kitchen table and Hermione could feel three sets of eyes on her and looked around at her friend's worried faces before settling on Harry who looked at her grimly.

“Okay,” Hermione whispered, “We should start by compiling the information we’ve gotten, without all the legal text and-“

“Hermione take a breath.” It was Ginny to interrupted, reaching over from across the table and putting her hand on top of Hermione’s.

Hermione became aware of how quickly she’d been talking. She looked between them again and Ron could barely meet her eyes. She felt marked. There was a tapping on the window. With a glance to one another, Harry went over, his wand out, and the bird flew in, dropping a letter before Hermione and then was out before anyone could say anything. The letter, with a think green envelope, bore the ministry’s seal. It was addressed to Miss. Hermione Granger and Hermione was aware Harry and Ron were talking through she couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“Let me get Gawain-“

“It’s not cursed,” Hermione told Harry, sitting down and opening the letter. “I know what it is.”

“What?” Ron asked, standing beside her.

“It’s my summons,” she continued, pulling out the parchment inside and read it over quickly, not retaining any of the information. “Tells me when I’m going to get married.”

The parchment, which looked formal in script held very little information, only a date and time and a warning should she choose to ignore it. With a sinking feeling, Hermione searched it for a minute, and then set the letter back down.

“Hermione!” Ron called as she stood up abruptly, collecting her things again and moving towards the stairs. “Where are you going?”

“I only have a month,” she answered, looking back at the concerned set of people. “Walter warned me about this. If I don’t come up with a way to get a waiver, then they’ll come for me, no matter how protected I am. Remember? They want to make an example out of me.”

“We’ll figure a way out of this,” Harry told her and she shook her head. “Hermione-“

“I’m going to my room,” she said distractedly, feeling like she’d already wasted time by stopping to talk to them. “I’ll do better reading this alone.”

 

 

“We’ve come up with an idea,” Ginny said and Hermione became aware Ginny had been talking to her for a while.

She stood in the doorway, Harry beside her and Ron standing behind them. Without asking they entered, Ginny coming to sit beside her. Quickly Hermione cleared a space and looked between each of them.

“What?” Hermione asked, her throat dry.

“We’re not entirely sure it will work, but it’s better than nothing.” She continued, looking at Harry. Hermione stared, distinctly awareRon was refusing to meet her eyes. “If you marry someone foreign, with citizenship in another country, there’s nothing they can do. Even if they have the legal grounds here, they’d have to deport you and-“

“’That’s great,” Hermione answered dryly, “but I don’t know anyone who will marry me. I won’t ask Angelo and everyone I knew in Italy was married.”

“Not from Italy necessarily,” Ginny told her, glancing at Ron. Hermione racked her brain to think of anyone she knew from another country. “Charlie.”

Hermione paused, staring at Ginny. “But, he’s from England.”

“Applied for his citizenship last summer,” Harry said in a low voice. “We were hoping it wouldn’t come to this but-“

“If he’s accepted, which we think he will, then we can get out.” Ginny finished.

Ron still refused to look at her. “We?” Hermione asked quietly.

“It’s not safe here,” Ginny said, putting a hand over her belly protectively. “I’d be able to go, we could even get Angelina and the kids.”

She thought this over. It wasn’t just about her anymore. Feeling stupid for having not thought of this, Hermione leaned back on her bed, closing her eyes for a moment. “We’d be able to get foreign support, I could go back to Italy put pressure on them.”

“And you’d be safe.” Harry agreed.

“How do we know this will work?” Hermione asked them quickly, “What’s to saythey won’t just come and take me anyway?”

“We don’t know,” Harry answered. “But we think it will buy us some time at least. If they were to come and take you it would make it an international incident. I doubt they’re that stupid, they’ve worked very hard to keep this out of the foreign press.”

“Right,” Hermione nodded as a wave of relief rushed over her. With new hope, she looked around. It’d been two days now since she’d met with Walter and she hadn’t slept since. Papers were scattered about and she felt suddenly exhaustion collapse on her. She looked up and smiled. “Thank-you.”

Ginny smiled, squeezing her hand. “I’m going to go and send a letter to Charlie, see what he says. You should get some sleep.”

Hermione nodded, standing with her and hugging Harry before they left the room, leaving her alone with Ron. He hadn’t said a word since he’d come in and looked at her with equally tired eyes.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked and he shook his head.

“No,” he answered, “Are you?”

She hadn’t thought about this, not since the summons after which she’d locked herself in her room, coming out only when they were doing strategy sessions with the entire group of Aurors. “What do you think?” she asked, ignoring his question.

Ron sighed, shaking his head. “I think it’ll keep you safe and that’s what matters.”

Frustrated and exhausted she ignored his tone, picking up the papers around the room and began to straighten her bed. She could feel Ron watching her and wanted only to shower and take a nap.

“But I don’t want you to do it.” He told her in a surprise outburst. Hermione turned to see him standing there, looking equally surprised. “I don’t want you to go, Hermione. I don’t want you to be with my brother. I, I want you to be with me.”

“Ron,” Hermione whispered tears in her eyes.

“I know that’s selfish, I know you’re not going to do it because you love him, but damn it, Hermione, I don’t want you to go.” He said, voice growing steadily in volume. “These past few weeks, as hellish as they have been, have been the best weeks of my life, and it’s all because of you. I want to be with you, Hermione. I lo-“

She knew what was coming next and couldn’t bear it. Instead, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as their lips collided. He kissed her back with fervor, lifting her up and holding onto her so tightly. She felt moisture on her cheeks and broke apart to find he was crying, tears rolling out of his eyes and brushed them away as he continued to kiss her chin and neck.

“This isn’t over,” she told him earnestly, kissing the side of his mouth as he gasped for air. “Okay? It’s just an option. I won’t stop looking-“

He kissed her again and she let him, let him hold her tightly and sob even as he was thrusting into her. Almost the minute they finally lay down he was asleep. Hermione, no matter how tired she’d felt half an hour ago, couldn’t bring herself to sleep. In the weeks since the first laws had come through, Hermione had managed to push down the guilt she’d felt about her breaking off their relationship. They had come to an unspoken understanding not to talk about why she’d left him then and instead had simply enjoyed one another’s company. But this time it was different. Ron had all but told her he loved her, a feeling she knew she didn’t deserve.

She owed him an explanation, she had for a long time, she knew that. The guilty feeling was suddenly overwhelming. Helplessly she lay there, trying not to jostle Ron who’s arm lay over her stomach. But before she knew it the tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes had turned to uncontrollable sobbing and she struggled for air. Her entire body ached as warring emotions overcame her. Suddenly she felt more than ever returning to England had been a terrible mistake.She should have never been so stupid as to have done such a thing.

She should never have come back, none of this would have happened if she had just stayed in Italy, there would be no one in danger, not like this. And even if it had happened she’d have been in a much better place to prevent it, instead of stuck in this house waiting for her fate. Helplessly she pressed her hands against her face, covering her eyes and whimpering. Her chest felt about to explode and eyes sore.

“Hermione?” Ron said from beside her, sitting up and looking around the room stupidly. There was the flash of him lighting a lamp as he shook her shoulder. “Hermione are you alright?”

Unable to answer, unable to even form a coherent thought she shook her head. Loudly she cried out, even to her own ears sounding like a wounded animal.

“Hermione!” Ron shouted, worried she was still sleeping and having a nightmare but she shoved him away, clutching her chest to stop the hole forming inside her. He fought back against her, wrapping his arms around her bare chest and though she fought him he didn’t let go, holding her tightly as she sobbed.

Finally, she fell against him, unable to control her wailing. Though she tried, Hermione was woefully unable to stop. For perhaps a quarter of an hour she sobbed, clutching to Ron’s arms wrapped around her. He lay with her until his deep breaths steadied her as he gently brushed her hair.

“What’s wrong?” Ron whispered in her ear. The hair on his chin brushed against her cheek and she forced herself to calm.

Without a word he produced a glass of water, which she drank from thirstily as she sat up, aware of how disheveled she looked.

“This is all my fault,” she whispered, brushing aware the tears leaked out with the sleeve of her shirt.

“Hermione,” Ron groaned, sounding like he was in pain.

“No,” she answered, “it is, if I had never come back, then this would have never happened.” She struggled to talk, feeling Ron’s worried eyes on her. “If I had just stayed in Italy, if I had just stayed with Angelo then no one would be in danger. They wouldn’t have tried if I had just-“

“This isn’t your fault.” He said firmly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Hermione they would have found a way no matter what. Whether it happened like this or even worse if they’d gotten you out of the way first.”

She hiccuped and he kissed her forehead.

“And I am glad every day you are here and we’re all together.” He told her with wide worried eyes. “Because if you weren’t here then we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Ron,” Hermione tried but was unable to even think straight. Instead, she looked down to where their hands were joined. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, kissing her chin once more and looked into her eyes.

“I don’t deserve you,” she managed. “I don’t. And I’ve known that for a long time. But it didn’t stop me from coming back here. I never stopped thinking about you, about what might have been.”

“Hermione-“

“I tried to convince myselfI was happy there, in Italy in Angleo. I tried to convince myself I could manage, manage not liking his family and still having to spend every Sunday with them, tried to convince myself I could be happy. But in the end, I just knew I was always going to be miserable, because it was nothing compared to you.”

Ron’s face seemed split between a serious look and the wide smile he was seconds from. Hermione pressed her own hand to his cheek.

“I didn’t come back to break you and Annabelle up or anything, honest. I just-“ she paused, licking her lips. “Life without you isn’t life at all. I’m sorry,” she whispered finally. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted so much time Ron. And I fucked this up so bad. I just-“

She paused, mouth hanging open in a word yet to say and then shook her head. “No matter what happens, no matter if we’re never together again just know I have never stopped loving you.”

The smile broke out across his face. They stared at each other, perhaps a minute passing. She could feel tears racing down her cheeks as she stared at his face, taking in every inch of him, every scar and every wrinkle that had formed as they’d grown.

“Say something,” Hermione urged, feeling more venerable than ever.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” he echoed.


	11. Waiting

The tension in the air seemed to mount whenever she entered the room. They were no longer alone in the home, an Auror always standing guard at the front door or Gawain pacing the house, checking their security spells. They said it was to keep all of them safe, it was Harry who killed their leader after all, but Hermione knew the truth because whenever she was spotted hushed conversations would end. Many were unable even to meet her eyes and she knew Ron and Harry knew more than they were letting on because they would hardly let her go to the bathroom without an escort.

Each day they held a strategy session at the home to prevent Harry and Ron from having to leave the house. Hermione caught snippets as she passed the door, wishing more than ever she’d be trusted to be in the know. When she pressed Ron and Harry on this they claimed this was to keep her safe. Hermione didn’t see how her not knowing was keeping her any safer.

It was during these meetings they learned about the summons and the woman who attempted to ignore it. More and more muggle-borns were going missing every day. It was no longer known if they were going into hiding or had been caught. Still, they weren’t able to repeal the laws and they weren’t able to come up with a better solution than her fleeing the country. Ron seemed to hold her closer and closer at night as if being close to him would protect her from the magic which was knocking at their doorstep.

One week remained until her summons was due. Though they wouldn’t tell her what would happen should she ignore her summons she knew what the dark magic entailed. She knew their spells wouldn’t hold. It was only a matter of days until she had to flee. Though Ron was snoring loudly beside her, Hermione found herself unable to keep her eyes closed. She snuck downstairs, hoping tea would calm her racing mind.

“Sorry,” Neville said as he peaked his head into the kitchen, wand held forward. “I didn’t know anyone was awake.” 

“It’s alright,” Hermione answered softly and gestured to the stove where she’d just taken off the kettle. “Could I make you a cup?”

“Please,” he answered gratefully, checking behind him once more at his post and then sank into the chair beside hers.

“How long is your shift?” Hermione asked him when she set back down, offering him the milk and sugar.

“I’m not on a shift,” Neville started, trying to disguise the fact he’d been stationed at their front door. Hermione gave him a long, knowing look and he grinned. “I don’t know why they bothered suggesting we guise this. I keep telling Gawain you’re the brightest witch of your age and we could use your help.”

Hermione smiled gratefully, feeling for the first time in awhile she was in the company of someone who wouldn’t be lying to her or trying to sugar coat the truth.

“How are you holding up?” he asked her, sipping his cup.

“As well as expected,” she answered, not wanting to talk about the nightmares which kept her racing mind awake. “How are you?”

“I’m just fine, just wishing we had better answers,” said Neville. “It gets tiring talking around in circles each day with no solution.”

“Are they planning on moving us soon?” Hermione asked quietly.

Neville looked around the room for a moment as if someone would be there to reprimand him for talking to her. “It’s one of the possibilities.”

“And the plan of me leaving the country?” she pressed.

“It’s the only real plan we have. Unless you’re able to get out of the country then they’ll be able to find you.” Said Neville. “Everyone agrees it’s the best plan…well, almost everyone.”

“Ron doesn’t like it,” she finished for him.

“No,” he agreed, “Ron doesn’t like it. But Ron’s always been too overprotective of you as if you weren’t more capable than him.”

“And Harry?” she asked.

“He’s more honest when Ron’s not around.” Neville paused for a moment. “He wants to send Ginny away from you all. He’s afraid Ron won’t let you go and it’ll doom you all.”

Hermione felt her breath catch. She hadn’t been considering Ginny in this, not really. Hadn’t been considering the danger she was putting her friend in, putting her unborn child in. It seemed clearer than ever the decision she had to make, for all of them.

“Neville,” Hermione asked softly, knowing she was pressing her luck. “What will happen if they catch me?”

Neville stared at her for a long moment, considering what to tell her. His eyes were heavy and sorry. “They’ll strip you of your wand, take your voice away and use your as an example to make all of the other muggleborns submit. After that, I doubt we’ll ever even see you again.”

Hermione had known this was the ending but hearing it spelled out for her seemed to make it suddenly real. Her hand went to her throat automatically as if it could protect her from the magic that was going for her.

“Hermione,” said Neville in a comforting voice.

“I’m okay,” she answered him but was aware of the tears in her eyes. She looked upstairs, wondering if Ron knew what Neville was telling her and if he did then how he could possibly consider any other ending. 

“Hermione, no matter what anyone says, we can’t protect you. If you are given the opportunity to leave then you would be wise to take it,” he paused, glancing up the stairs as if knowing what she was thinking. “No matter how anyone else feels.”

Hermione nodded, pushing her cup of tea away from her. Neville smiled at her, putting a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “Please be safe Hermione, we don’t stand a chance without you.”

 

Hermione took her time washing the cups and placing them back into the cabinet before walking back up the stairs. She knew now what she had to do, no matter the cost. But before she could break his heart, Hermione knew she owed him the truth, owed him the expiation as to why she’d broken his heart all those years ago. She entered the room as noisily as possible and shook him awake, climbing into bed beside him and sat with her back to the headboard, signaling she wanted to talk.

“You alright?” Ron asked with a long yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before sitting up and leaning against the headboard.

She turned to find him staring at her in concern. “Um,” she said helplessly and then sat back down at the foot of the bed, unable to meet his eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you, Ron.” She knew it wasn’t a good time but was unable to keep it in anymore, unable to let this secret distract her.

“About?” he asked uneasily, reaching for her hands and stopping when she pulled away. “Right,” he nodded, making it clear he was aware. The air was suddenly very thick between them. “I knew we would, eventually.” He waited for a moment in the uncomfortable silence before speaking again. “Look whatever it was, it doesn’t change how I feel about you now or anything alright?”

Already tears were leaking from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She fussed with the sheet for a moment, drawing several calming breaths and finally forced herself to look at Ron. He wore the somber expression she hated to see on him. “When I broke it off,” she finally began and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I uh, I was- I was pregnant.”

The hand Ron had been reaching towards her once more fell worthlessly onto the covers. He stared at her, speechless.

“It must’ve happened over the holiday. I found out two weeks before your birthday.” She paused, tears burning down her cheeks. “I was going to tell you, honest, but a week after I found out I fainted in Charms. The next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey told meI-“ she paused, pained even now to think back to that moment, feeling so alone in a thin dressing gown when the elderly witch looking at her with a mixture of disproval and sorrow. “I’d lost the baby.”

Audibly Ron groaned in pain, shaking his head. Tears filled his eyes too as he stared at her.

“I didn’t know what to do. I was in so much pain and I was confused and we were so young.” She was speaking very quickly now. Ron wasn’t able to meet her eyes anymore, eyes stuck on a spot between them. His mouth worked and he shook his head. “Neither of us had graduated yet and I didn’t know what to do so I broke it off.”

“Stop,” he told her finally, breathing deeply and forced himself to look at her. “Who knew? About the baby?”

“No one,” she told him quickly. “Not until it was over, Madame Pomfrey knew and McGonagall, but I didn’t tell a soul. Not even Ginny.” She paused, and in a smaller more ashamed voice added. “After I came back from Italy, Harry asked me and-“

He let out the same pained noise and she stopped, drawing away from him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice was calm and quiet but Hermione knew better. She could feel the anger radiating off him. She wished he'd yell, he’d scream at her and they’d row. This, this was so much worse. “Why didn’t you tell me, Hermione?”

“I loved you so, so much,” she assured him, reaching for his hand but it was quickly snatched from her grasp. “But I felt like my entire future was decided for me. I didn’t know what to do. I knew you’d marry me, it was terrifying to think I wasn’t even twenty and I already knew how the rest of my life was going to happen, I could have been married before I was even done with Hogwarts. I was scared and rather than deal with everything that’d happened, I ran away.”

“Why’d you run away?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Hermione forced herself to swallow back the tears, watching his back as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’d already been given an offer,” she said with a dry mouth. “I didn’t think you’d forgive me, Harry wasn’t talking to me and I’d already pushed Ginny away. It was easier than staying because I didn’t have to explain myself.”

She expected him to stand up, walk away from her but he remained, shoulders stretched and looked quite painful in his stillness.

“Moving to Italy was the hardest thingI’ve ever done,” she continued, pressing her luck now. “I spent the first year wallowing and miserable. All I wanted to do was run back and hope you’d take me back. But I couldn’t bring myself to face you, not after what I’d done. I knew I didn’t deserve you. And then Harry and Ginny’s wedding happened.”

Ron looked back at her then. He looked as though he’d aged a decade in the short time since they’d danced together under the tent, lust, and longing in his eyes.

“I told myself it was alright, we were both adults and it wouldn’t change anything. But in the morning I felt horrible and I couldn’t face you then either.” She sat up, and unconsciously they’d moved closer to one another, only inches between them now in the dim light. “I didn’t come back here to get back together with you, honest. I wanted a fresh start. I missed Harry and Ginny and I hoped somehow we could be friends again. But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it.”

He reached up with one hand, brushing away a wild hair in her face. “I missed you,” she whispered, and he moved to touch the side of her face now, exploring it. “Life without you is miserable Ron.” She kissed his fingers, taking his hand into her own and then smiled sadly. “I’m sorry,” she finished, sniffling. “You did not deserve any of this. And I know I certainly don’t deserve anything you’ve done for me.”

There was a pregnant silence and then finally he looked up and Hermione could see the sadness in his eyes. “When you left me, Hermione, I didn’t want to live anymore. I can’t imagine the pain you were feeling, but I know if you’d told me we could have made it through together, and you didn’t even give me a choice.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, intertwining their fingers.

He watched with interest and then looked to her. “Hermione I need you,” he confessed, gripping her hand tightly. “Hermione I need you.”

“I’m going to have to go,” she whispered, not trusting her voice. “It’s the only way I’ll be safe.”

Ron didn’t argue with her, putting his arms around her suddenly as if being in his arms could keep her safe. “Give me more time, we’ll come up with something, we always do.”

“Ron,” she whispered, aware she was crying. “Please.”

They lay in thick silence. Hermione dimmed the lights, laying her head on his chest and listened to his pounding heart. She thought back to the night of Harry and Ginny’s wedding, how things might have been different if she had just stayed. But they hadn’t had their happy ending then. And in the morning Hermione knew she would announce her plan and it would be a long time until they saw each other again, not until she ended this war.


	12. Annabelle

It wasn’t until noon Hermione woke. They’d gotten lazy in their confinement, and she turned to find Ron, still beside her in a deep sleep. Softly she smiled at him, studying his worn face for the first time in weeks. It’d been nearly four months since the decree had been passed and still, no end was in sight. The letters which told the muggle-borns who they were going to marry had arrived almost a month prior and the deadline was quickly approaching. They were safe in their home, but for how long? 

Not allowing her mind to wander too far Hermione shook her head and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Ron. He snored loudly as she left, moving to the warm spot she’d left as she pulled on her dressing gown. Downstairs Ginny was sitting in the living room. Her pregnancy made her look ready to burst and Hermione watched for a moment as Ginny stretched her shirt over her belly and smiling before spying Hermione from the corner of her eye and blushing.

“Sorry,” Hermione said as she entered, falling into the seat beside Ginny.

Ginny didn’t say anything, shaking her head. “It’s odd, thinking about how different the world is.” She paused, looking back down at her belly and ran a hand over it again, smoothing her shirt. “Harry and I, we were happy about getting pregnant, honest, and we talked about everything we wanted for this child. Only now,” she looked at Hermione, “everything’s changed.”

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked of her, looking around though she hadn’t heard him since she’d woken.

“He went to check up on mum and get groceries,” Ginny answered. “He also went to see if he could get any new information, but he told me it was a low priority. “

Hermione chuckled with Ginny. Harry, as much as if not worse than the rest of them, was going stir crazy. Still forbidden from leaving the house, he’d do everything to get sent on missions. Finally, Gawain had compromised and allowed him to go to the burrow once a week. Nearly always he broke the once a week rule, going over and harassing Molly until she finally would give him a list of chores each week. He’d finished already with all the landscaping and she’d moved him now to clean out the attic. Molly’d told them her house had never looked so clean but was worried she’d run out of things before Harry ran out of energy.

The front door opened and Ginny frowned, leaning back over the couch to look at the front door. “You’re back early,” she called, looking at the clock. “I figured you’d be there until dinner.”

Harry answered with something Hermione didn’t catch and Ginny leaned back farther. “Who are you talking to?” Ginny asked worriedly and Hermione realized he hadn’t even been talking to them.

Hurriedly Hermione stood, drawing her wand and waving to Ginny for her to stay down. Creeping to the door, Hermione pushed back the fear slowly filling her. Flattening herself against the wall, Hermione peaked around the corner to where Harry was still in the doorway, his back to her and was mumbling something to someone as he took her coat and hung it up.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, entering the hallway.

He looked up at her with an unreadable expression and Hermione looked at him for a moment before she turned her eyes to there person standing beside him. Finally, Harry moved aside and in shock Hermione nearly dropped her wand.

Annabelle looked back at her worriedly, looking much worse than the last time Hermione had seen her. She looked as if she’d lost a stone and a half, her clothes hanging from her. A half healed bruise graced her right eye and Hermione could see scratch marks across her chest.

“What is it?” Ginny called, rushing over and standing behind Hermione, gripping to her arm at the sight of Annabelle. Tears filled the girl’s eyes as she looked back and Harry put a hand on her back, guiding her forward.

“It’s alright,” He whispered to her as they approached Ginny and Hermione standing still in the middle of the hallway, unable to move.

Ginny snapped back, rushing forward and putting an arm around Annabelle’s shoulders. Hermione stepped back, unable to avert her eyes as Ginny lead her from the room, whispering something to her hurriedly.

“She’s been trying to get in contact with us for months,” Harry answered sounding very burdened. Hermione looked at him, unable to think of what to say. “She got a letter and when she didn’t show up, they came for her.”

“I thought-“

“Unless we can prove she has a magical father.” He paused, shaking his head and running his hands through his head. “I’m going to get Ron.”

“He’s in my room,” Hermione answered in a small voice and Harry looked to her for a moment before walking off without a word.

 

“They’re technically eligible because they dated for two years,” Ginny told Hermione finally.

They were in the kitchen, Ginny kneading bread at the counter and Hermione at the sink, peeling potatoes. It had been two hours since Annabelle had arrived. She and Ron sat in the living room talking in low voices, Harry going in for time to time to ask them questions before leaving again.

Hermione couldn’t think of anything to say. This had been the sign she’d been waiting for, the reason for Ron to allow her to go. She had already made her mind up to leave and protect herself, this was the universe giving her an out. Ginny stopped, shaping the dough with skilled hands and put it into the pan before turning and walking over to Hermione.

“We got a letter back from Charlie,” Ginny told her though she looked as if she didn’t want to.

This piqued her interest, Hermione looking over at her hopefully. Ginny nodded, pulling it out of her back pocket and handed it to Hermione who quickly unfolded the letter and read through it.

“Everything is settled for this weekend,” Ginny said as Hermione read through it again quickly, trying to understand the code it’d been forced to be written in. “We could get Angelia and the kids out as well. They can stay at Bill and Fleur’s until this blows over.”

Hermione looked at her finally, shaking her head. “You keep talking like one day we’re going to wake up and it’s all going to be a bad dream,” she snapped. “Ginny if we don’t fight this, who will?”

She frowned, shaking her head and looked back to the living room. Inside, Annabelle and Ron were standing now. He pointed towards the bathroom and then turned, looking over to them. Ginny moved out of the room quickly, shaking her head at Hermione. Ron walked over, watching Ginny retreat.

“Hey,” he whispered to Hermione as he entered, standing with the counter still between them. Hermione looked over at him, pocketing the letter. “What’s that?”

“Charlie answered,” Hermione told him, fishing out the letter and handing it back to him. Ron read it over quickly and then frowned at her. “He can get me out of the country and then I’ll travel back to Italy, put pressure on them to act.”

Ron looked speechless, staring at her with his mouth still open. “That means-“

“If I marry a foreigner there’s not much they can do, Charlie has citizenship there,” Hermione told him. Tears filled Ron’s eyes despite himself. “Don’t,” she whispered to him, walking around the counter and put a hand against his face. “Ron.”

He took a steadying breath but it wasn’t enough. A tear leaked from his eye and ran down the side of her hand.

“You have to protect Annabelle,” she told him, sounding much more certain than she felt. “I-“

Suddenly he kissed her, wrapping her in his arms and a warmth filled her. She didn’t push him away until she could feel the cold tears from his cheeks in her cheeks and she put his arms around him, kissing the side of his face and staring at him.

“Why?” he asked of her, arms still around her though he seemed unable to meet her eyes. “Hermione I, I just found you and-“

“Ron,” she warned him softly and he finally looked at her.

“I love you, Hermione,” he told her, closing his eyes as if he was in pain. “I can’t lose you.”

“We have to end this Ron,” Hermione answered him. “If we don’t no one else will. I have contacts there and-“

“It’ll be over one day and we can-“

“Ron,” she answered again and he shook his head.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, removing his arms from around her and he stared at her. “Marry someone I don’t love? Let you marry my brother? Only see you on holidays and have to look at you as if I don’t want you?” he shook his head as Hermione tried to answer and slammed his hand on the counter. “I can’t live like that Hermione! I love you. Not Annabelle, you. I want you. I can’t live the rest of my life without you, I can’t spend one more day without you.”

Hermione was stunned, she stared at him and he turned to her, taking her hands and begging her with those eyes she couldn’t refuse. Again he kissed her, deep and long until finally, finally, Hermione knew what she had to do.

“Ron,” she whispered and he tried to kiss her again. “Ron, we can’t.”

“Why not?” he begged of her.

“You have to protect Annabelle,” she answered him, “This just isn’t our ending Ron. This isn’t how our story ends.”

“Please,” he begged, and with a resolve she wanted to ignore, Hermione looked down at her feet and mustered the courage to say the words she knew would end the discussion.

“Ron,” she looked into his eyes her throat felt suddenly dry and her eyes stung. Forcing herself to speak she opened her mouth and managed, “You have to protect Annabelle. You deserve better than me.”

“We can make it work,” he pleaded with her, “We’ve made it work before and I can-“ he paused, biting his lip and shaking his head. Finally, he gave in, elbows against the counters and looked over at her. “Hermione, I can’t live without you.”

“Yes you can,” she told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You lived without me for years Ron, you fell in love with someone else and had a life without me. It’s okay, it’s okay not to-“ she was unable to finish the statement. “I’m sorry Ron, but I can’t live my life, not like this. We have to do this.”

Ron reached for her hand and she allowed him to pull her back into a tight embrace. They stood in the kitchen, swaying on the spot. She allowed herself to sink into her embrace. Allowed herself to be surrounded by him for a final time.

“You should be happy with her,” she whispered in his ear. “You should make a life with her Ron. You deserve happiness I can’t promise you.”

He nodded as they separated, looking back into the other room where he’d been sitting with Annabelle. She hadn’t returned from the bathroom yet.

“When this is over,” he tried again and Hermione found herself shaking her head.

“We can’t think like that Ron,” she told him. “We don’t know when this is going to be over. I can’t promise you a day I don’t know is coming.”

He stared at her pleadingly.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione softly.

For a moment longer, he stared at her, willing her to change her mind, change her answer. He wished she’d promise him something, anything any sort of future with him. Annabelle could be heard exiting the bathroom and walking down the hall. She called for Ron and finally, he turned away from Hermione, the deepest look of rejection on his face.


	13. Ron's Wedding

He didn’t speak with her again. Though Hermione could feel the anger radiating off Ron every time she stepped in the room, he did not whisper another word. Annabelle took residence in the room next to Hermione’s and though she could hear them at night talking in low voices and hear her sobbing. Each morning Hermione awoke to find Ron downstairs on the couch asleep. Annabelle couldn’t seem to look at Hermione and bitterly Hermione realized her story had been shared with the newcomer in the household. Her miscarriage was no longer a secret. There were no more secrets. 

Though she knew it would take her away from Ron, Hermione couldn’t wait to escape to another country and be given the chance to start over again. When she left England as a fresh graduate Hermione had made her choice. The universe was making her honor that decision.

Ginny, swollen and miserable, was unable to be much of a buffer. After much discussion, it had been decided Hermione would not be the only person who fled the country. While the Weasley’s threw a grand wedding for Ron and Annabelle, Hermione, Ginny, Angelina, her children and the shop assistant Delphine would slip from the country with Charlie. Ginny, close to giving birth, would live with Charlie while Angelina went to live with Bill and Fleur until it was all over.

Ginny and Harry seemed inseparable, trying to soak up every moment they could together. They spent most of their time in their bedroom and when Hermione would pass she would see Harry with his head on Ginny’s stomach, talking hurriedly to the baby as if trying to tell him everything he would once the baby was born. Hermione realized in these moments she spied Harry’s worst nightmares had been realized. He would not be able to see his child for the first months of its life. It, just as Harry, would spend the first portion of his life fatherless.

Hermione was left to her own devices, scribbling away at the law, trying to determine some means of a solution and basking in her solitude. There would be no happy ending to her and Ron’s love story. With every angry, hurtful glance, Hermione was reminded she again had been the one to end their story. She had made them unrequited.

With only two days till her summons, Hermione found herself alone in the home. Standing in her empty bedroom with her trunk packed and the rest of her things stored upstairs she looked around, eyes lingering on the freshly made bed. After a time she forced herself to look away, the familiar longing filling her gut. When she turned she found Harry in the doorway, watching her with a miserable expression.

“I thought you’d already left,” Hermione said in surprise and he shook his head, looking at her sadly.

“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” He answered and Hermione nodded, looking around. “This isn’t how I pictured Ron’s wedding day going.” He continued and Hermione shook her head at him.

“Harry,” she whispered and he nodded.

“I know, I know,” he said. “It’s just, you should be wearing the white dress, Hermione.”

Slowly he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and she did her best to ignore the tears in his eyes. “It’s alright,” she told him fervently, holding him tightly and pressed his head against her shoulder. “It’s all going to be alright Harry.”

“When?” he asked and she ignored him.

“Harry,” she whispered to him. “You’d better be going.”

It had been planned carefully, giving enough time at the wedding to not arouse suspicion for the spies who would surely be present, halfway through the reception they would disappear to the Potters and would be out of the country before anyone was drunk. By this time tomorrow both she would be a Weasley, her and Ron both married. Just not to each other.

He didn’t say anything to her, pulling back and kissing her forehead. For a moment longer Harry stared at her until finally, he nodded. “See me out?” he asked and she nodded, wiping away at the bottom of her eyes to keep Harry from seeing her cry.

With one arm wrapped around her, they began to walk towards the doorway. Halfway down the stairs, Hermione began feeling lightheaded and, convinced that she was about to cry, stopped, shaking her head.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, watching her from the corner of his eyes. “Hermione?”

She nodded at him, then gripped the banister, feeling a sudden stabbing pain in her abdomen. In confusion, she looked up at Harry. “Something’s wrong,” she told him, bitting down on her lip to keep from crying out. “Harry-“

The last thing she remembered was falling forward and Harry grabbing her as the light went from her eyes.

 

“Ginny,” Hermione groaned, turning her head to look at her friend who had tears streaming down her cheeks.

She lay in her bedroom, feeling utterly exhausted. In the bathroom, the healer from the Auror's office could be heard cleaning up.Ginny had been at the Burrow nervously helping Annabelle get ready when Harry’s Patronus had appeared telling her to go somewhere private. His response was short, telling her what had happened. Harry had gone back to pick up his tie, though they both knew it was to say goodbye to Hermione. She’d been walking him to the door when she’d collapsed. A healer had been summoned, telling Hermione what she already knew. Ginny had left the wedding, relieving Harry who went back to resume his best-man duties.

“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked softly and Hermione shook her head. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

Lips shut tightly, Hermione shook her head, letting out a long breath through her nose. Finally, she felt the pain lessen and she lay back into the pillows. “I’m fine. It’s not like this is my first time.” She looked at Ginny curiously but she didn’t react to her statement. “I took it Harry told you then.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” Ginny whispered to her, brushing a hair from Hermione’s eyes and gave a shaky smile. “I wish I could have been there for you because that’s not something you should have had to go through alone.”

A fresh wave of tears erupted, running down Hermione’s cheeks as Ginny comforted her, holding onto Hermione’s hand. Helpless she stared into her friend's eyes, emotions she hadn’t considered for years bubbling up.

“Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened?” Ginny asked in a comforting voice and Hermione shook her head.

“I was never close enough to anyone in Italy besides Angelo, and well,” Hermione chuckled at how that had ended. “I never even told him who I was,” she confessed. “I suppose that’s as good of a sign as any we were never going to work out.”

“What do you mean?” she asked in the same soft voice.

“I lied about my age,” Hermione said and then shook her head at herself. “I don’t really know what I was thinking. But if I’d told himI had just graduated, I knew he’d start asking questions about the war and I just wasn’t ready to talk about it with a stranger. Harry has name recognition over there, but that’s the extent. No one really cared what Voldemort was doing. So, I added a couple years and told him I’d been working in the ministry here. It made it far easier when I got a job offer, told him it was my old boss.”

With Hermione, Ginny giggled, rolling her own eyes. “Oh, Hermione.”

“I made a lot of questionable decisions that year,” Hermione said, but her grin faded. “After I lost the baby I just, spiraled, I wanted to get as far away from this situation as I could. I was tired of answering questions, I just wanted to be with people who wouldn’t.”

“Did we ask too many questions?” Ginny asked and Hermione shook her head.

“I should have stayed.” 

“It happened, alright?” she answered.

Hermione had dissolved into tears completely. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “Just with everything going on. It’s not fair.”

“We’ll manage,” Ginny answered practically.

They didn’t say anything for a long silence. Having barely said a word in days Hermione’s throat felt heavy with the secrets she’d kept inside. And so, without any prompting, she began to speak.

“Seventh year was really hard. A lot more than I let on. Being back at Hogwarts, without them, was just terrifying. I didn’t know what it was like to be without them. I’d spent the last seven years with them at my side, taking care of them and them taking care of me. I told myself it would just take some getting used to, and for the first few weeks, it was alright. I spent most of my time in the library and it wasn’t like we didn’t have our separate lives. They went to Quidditch practice or hung out with the boys and I’d study with the Ravenclaws. But really we just balanced each other out. Our lives had become so intertwined. After a week or so one morning, I remember going down to breakfast and looking up from my paper, expecting Harry to be pouring the coffee and Ron forcing food onto my plate while I read to them. I felt so lonely then.” She paused, putting her hand on her forehead and sighed, glancing over at Ginny. “Not to say you weren’t there, just I was so used to them. So I started trying to spend more time with you and the others, tried to limit my time spent off by myself. Harry and Ron were always good at that, they’d make me leave the library when I’d spent too much time there and they’d gotten bored. It was better for a time, and I thought I could get by, seeing them at Hogsmeade, writing to them and hearing about Auror training.

“Then the nightmares started. Oh, it was horrible, for weeks I’d wake up every night screaming and terrified. I didn’t feel like I could talk to anyone, because how do you explain something like that? I knew she was dead, but I swear when I woke her breath was on my skin and her knife about to-“ Hermione stopped looking at Ginny.

“Malfoy Manor?” she asked with a white face.

Hermione nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose to stop the tears from leaking out for a moment. “I didn’t tell them, because I didn’t want to worry them, and I didn’t really think it would help. I thought I was getting by you know? Then exams came and I didn’t have much time to think about it and then it was break. The moment I saw them on the platform, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt relief like that.”

“I remember,” Ginny chuckled, “You were off the train before it had even stopped, I remember you beside me one moment and the next I spotted you out the window, nearly tackling the both of them.”

“I think I cried for the next four hours,” Hermione told her and giggled. “Oh, poor Ron didn’t know what to do with me. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed myself more than the holiday. The nightmares stopped and the four of us just got to spend time with one another. Not to say I didn’t grieve with everyone else, but with them it was okay.

“Going back to school was difficult, but it was easier knowing we only had a few months left until it was all over and I could be with him. To be honest I didn’t notice I’d missed my period until it was March and then I thought it was just exam stress.” Hermione chuckled. “I’d get so worried about exams I’d miss two or three months before. But I don’t know, this time was different. Then there was a night when we were all up late, talking and Lavender told us a story about the pregnancy scare she’d had over break and I just knew. I took a test the next day and it was positive.

“Strangely I was alright with it. I wasn’t happy to be pregnant or anything, I just felt like I’d marry your brother one day either way and this was just us starting our lives early.” Hermione’s face fell. “But after I lost the baby, I just felt so isolated, like the rest of my life had been decided for me and I had no say in it. I wanted to feel like I had a choice, a choice other than moving straight in with him and changing my last name. I wanted to be able to vacation and live with you if I wanted. I felt like I belonged to him or something. I had made this huge mistake and now-“

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ginny said hurriedly.

“But it was wasn’t it? I’m Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age. I’m not the kind of person who forgets birth control.”

“It’s not about logic,” Ginny intervened. “You were in love. If you’re spending all your time during sex thinking practically then you're not having sex with the right person.”

Hermione sighed. “I suppose.” She was quiet for a moment and then looked over at Ginny. “I didn’t come back here to get together with him or anything, I missed you and Harry a lot. But, with him, there’s never been a point in my life where I’ve thought I’d never be with him again. I know it’s selfish, but-“

Ginny smiled, squeezing Hermione’s hand which still rested on her belly. “You can’t decide what your heart wants.”

“It’s stupid,” Hermione muttered, closing her eyes for a moment.

“One day this will be over,” Ginny promised, brushing Hermione’s sweaty hair from there brow.

“No,” she answered in a flat voice. “It’s over. He’s married to her and-“

“When this is over-“

“No one else is going to be able to stop this!” she shouted, suddenly, propping herself up on her side. “Ginny there is no one else, it is just us, it is just me. I have to end this and if that means leaving the county and watching the love of my life marry someone else to keep them safe that’s what it means.”

“Hermione,” Ginny cooed, standing up with some difficulty and attempted to push Hermione back down onto the bed. “Please, you’ve just had a procedure.”

“Call it what it is,” Hermione said, laying back nevertheless. “A miscarriage.”

There was a new pain in Ginny’s eyes as she took her friend’s hand and rubbed it to comfort her.

“We can’t risk the baby Ginny, we can’t risk you,” Hermione told her just above a whisper. “We have to end this, we have to go because there’s nothing more here we can possibly do.”

“When this is over-“ Ginny tried again but Hermione shook her head.

“Ron and I are not meant to be together, there is no chance for us anymore. He will tell her everything he’s ever told me and he’ll mean it too because that’s who Ron is. He’ll tell she’s the prettiest girl in the world, how she’s brilliant and how much he loves her.”

There was a pained noise from the doorway and both Hermione and Ginny turned to find Ron leaning against the doorway, apparently listening to their conversation. He was still in his wedding garbs, tie undone and hanging from his neck. Their eyes met for a long moment before Hermione turned her head away.

“Ron,” Hermione protested, a whine in her voice. “Please, I told Harry not to tell you.”

“Like Harry’s ever been able to keep anything from me,” he answered. “Damn it, Hermione, we’re not going to go through this, not again, not like this.”

“Leave,” she told him again. “Ronald this isn’t about us this isn’t-”

“I have been in love with you for ages Hermione,” Ron continued, his face red now and sharply drew a breath. “I was a fool not to tell you then, I was a fool to let you go because I have been waiting my whole life for you, Hermione. I have loved you for longer than I can remember and there is nothingyou can say, nothing will ever convince me I have felt any less for you.”

“Ron,” Hermione whispered tears in her own eyes.

“I’ve tried to live without you Hermione,” he continued, bravely taking a step forward. “I have, I have lived and tried to love and settled. But when I think about loving someone, when I think about what I want the rest of my life to be it’s you, it’s always been you. You are the one I want Hermione. I want to stay in on Fridays and watch the telly. I want to pick out a house and cook dinner for you, I want to live with you. I settled for Annabelle. I told myself everything was alright,it could be alright somehow. I told myself it was alright to not go to Sunday dinner because she didn’t want to, but with you, it would be-“

“When did I ever say I didn’t want to go to family dinner?” Hermione asked of him.

Ron stopped, looking at her for a moment, his voice lowered as he spoke, “The first night you came back. When we were in the kitchen, you were telling me about everything you didn’t like. You saidyou had to go to dinner at his mother’s-“

“That was his family,” Hermione answered him and Ron took another step forward. Tears were now falling out of her eyes as he inched toward her. Nervously she laughed, glancing back at Ginny briefly who had been watching them silently. “I love your family Ron.”

He nodded at her, opening his mouth again and shutting it. “I love you, Hermione. I have spent the last six years wishingI had chased after you, I had said something, anything. I’m not going to spend another six years wishing I had said something. So I’m going to say it. I love you, Hermione.”

His words felt like a punch in the gut. They were the words she’d been longing to hear for ages, the words she’d feared she’d never hear again. She sized him up, looking him over for a long moment before settling on his left hand, placed on the bed beside her.

“You’re married,” she managed, mouth dry.

“Hermione-“

“You’re married,” she repeated, unwilling and unable to stop the flow of tears now leaking down her face. “You’re married and I’m an outlaw. It’s only a matter of time until they come for me so you being here doesn’t help anything.”

“Hermione,” he said again helplessly. “Hermione I can’t go back. I love you.”

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. Despite herself, she began to picture a life with him. Waking up next to him, talking about nothing over breakfast. The wonderful life he could give her. One filled with love and laughter. She forced herself to look back at his ring, forced herself to remember the protection he was offering someone else and couldn’t be extended to her. She was marked.

“How I feel for you doesn’t change the situation we’re in,” she told him dryly. “No matter how strongly we feel for each other it doesn’t change the fact we’re all in danger and we can’t stop it from here.”

Hermione managed to look him in the eyes and watched the heartbroken expression spread across his face. It was over, she knew they had no chance at being together. Ron’s hand reached for her, pressing against her face and began to stroke away the tears she wasn’t aware she was crying.

“Hermione,” he croaked again as she felt more worn still.

“Charlie’ll be here soon,” Hermione whispered to him. “I have to go, Ron, I’m not safe here. You have to keep Annabelle safe.

Ron’s hand slid to the back of her neck and he moved to kiss her, but at the last second seemed to change his mind, pressing their foreheads together. He closed his eyes as they breathed the same air. Hermione knew, deep down, this was the last time they would be this intimate. This would be the last time they’d be allowed to be this close. This would be the last time they were alone and able to show one another how they truly felt. Minutes passed, or perhaps hours, but when they separated Hermione found herself longing for days longer with their faces pressed against one another’s.

Clearing her face for a final time, Ron pulled back, seeming to accept his fate and pulled back the covers to help her stand up. With his help she dressed, aware of the irony of another groom helping dress someone else’s bride on their wedding day. When they finished they stood interwoven, arms tangled around each other.

“Promise me something,” Hermione said as he gathered her things to escort her downstairs.

Raised voices told them both the rest of the traveling party had arrived and their time had almost run out.

“Anything,” he answered, draping her bag on his shoulder and offered a hand to help her stand.

“Promise me you’ll find some happiness.” She told him. “With your life, with Annabelle.”

“Only if you’ll promise me you’ll end this.”


	14. Charlie

In the months after their marriage, Hermione was so miserable Charlie found it hard to even look at her. Most of the day she could be found in bed, staring at the wall blankly with glassed over eyes or at the kitchen table, a book open in front of her. But her eyes still seemed unfocused and the pages never turned. When she thought he wasn’t looking she’d spend long stretches staring at her ring as if trying to determine where it had come from, how she had gotten here. Often Charlie thought she was about to break. Though he never heard her cry, Charlie knew she did, when she was in the shower or when he was in the other room. It was miserable, living with someone who was so miserable, but he could not find the words to say so he stayed silent and listened from the other room as his wife exuded her sadness.

Ginny, too preoccupied with her own sadness from missing her husband and knowing her child would be born in a foreign land, wasn’t much help. Though she put on a brave face during the day at night he knew Ginny would long for Harry and resented that this was her life. When she spoke to Hermione it was about how sorry she was that Harry wouldn’t be able to see his own child. Not hold their first born for who knew how long. Charlie personally didn’t think it helped to add this guilt to Hermione’s plate but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t close enough to be involved.

When James was born, a mercifully quick and easy birth, Charlie finally witnessed Hermione crying for the first time. She didn’t cease for three days, unable to even look at her nephew when she held him and comforted him while his mother slept. Charlie hoped once Ginny was better that perhaps the two would be a comfort to one another, but soon after the birth, it had been decided to put Ginny into another safe house with Angelina and the kids. Somewhere louder, where the cries of a child would not be suspicious. So they were alone, he and Hermione. Alone with the woman he’d married to help a situation they were no closer to solving than when the first letter had arrived begging for help.

It was a dull sort of existence. Though their enchantments were strong and there was no possibility of attack, every moment felt on edge. He spied Hermione sleeping with her wand clutched in her hands one night and Charlie determined he should do the same. They spent their days in waiting, waiting for news good or bad, and waiting on the next instructions.

During the day he was permitted to leave the flat to go to the store or a short trip to get a breath of fresh air. Hermione, however, was left to the confinements of their one bedroom apartment, only able to open the windows to get a bit of sunlight. He felt stifled and suffocated being permitted to leave for an hour every day. He couldn’t imagine how she felt not so much as being able to tilt her head out of a window. But Hermione never said anything aside from staring out the door for long stretches and closing her eyes and breathing him in when he returned from his trips.

Once Ginny and the baby had gone Hermione began to write. At first, he spied short letters to Harry and Ron, letters she could not send for fear they would be traced back. But over time the letters grew longer and into epics, scrolls and scrolls of parchment stacked on every surface. Hermione furiously scribbled at parchment all hours of the days and night. He wasn’t quite sure if she ever slept. Charlie wasn’t even aware she’d been writing to the ministry until he came back from shopping one day to the head of the Auror department in his living room with a grimace of a smile on his face.

Hermione, as it turned out, had been writing to the minister of Italy and was beginning to get international attention.

“Not good attention,” Hermione told him with a sly grin as if it had never been her intention to get good press. “But attention never the less."

“So what, they’re going to intervene?” Charlie asked, sitting down next to Hermione.

“No, but it’s a start,” Gawain answered. “The next step we believe would be more face to face interaction.”

“What, like going to the ministry?” Charlie asked.

When Hermione had been snuck from the country he’d been given the explicit instructions to keep her indoors. Her simply being seen was a risk. The marriage, while saving her from the ancient magic the third rebellion (as Hermione liked to call it) had enacted, was not a guarantee she could not be taken otherwise. He’d sworn to Ron he would do anything to protect her and for now, that meant keeping her indoors and out of sight. This would be doing the exact opposite of that.

“Yes,” Hermione answered and there was a dangerous twinkle in her eyes he had not yet seen, a spark of life, a purpose.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” he asked, looking to Gawain.

“Quite.” He looked over at Hermione as if this had been the point he’d been trying to make.

“I won’t ask you to be involved Charlie,” Hermione told him, “You’ve already done so much for me.”

He thought about this for a moment but from the way they were both looking at him expectantly, he knew they were counting on him to be involved. And Charlie had never been one to shy away from danger, he’d always gone searching for it. The prospects of leaving the flat they’d been confined in and putting themselves straight into the danger was incredibly tempting.

“How can I help?” he asked of them then. Hermione beamed, reaching over to squeeze his hand in gratitude. Charlie felt a rush of warmth at the contact.

They strategized then, talking well into the night about who they should target and how. The best plan, they decided on, was to get as much public exposure as possible. This, of course, seemed quite dangerous and risky but when Gawain put this to Hermione again she shrugged.

“If you’ll recall Mr. Robards, Lord Voldemort would still be here if it wasn’t for me.” She said and resumed scribbling her thoughts and then added in a voice only Charlie could hear. “Something your ministry wasn’t able to accomplish.”

Charlie waited for Hermione to be reprimanded for her rudeness but Gawain merely shook his head with the ghost of a smile on his lips. He had to give it to her for her brashness. Looking back this was the first moment he knew she would end this by her will alone.

 

They were moved from Charlie’s home to a smaller one bedroom flat blocks from the Italian Ministry’s center and got to work. The following weeks were a stark contrast to the Hermione who had spent the first period of their marriage together crying and staring off into space. He often would be sent off for books or to deliver letters. Hermione still couldn’t leave the flat, not yet anyway, not until the threat was established. Always writing something, or behind a tall stack of books, Charlie was unsure if she ever really slept. Long after he’d fall asleep every night, kipping on the couch, she’d still be up writing and when he awoke she’d often be in the same spot.

“You should take the bed,” she told him seriously one night. “You can’t be getting good sleep out here.”

“I don’t mind,” he said automatically and she stared at him as if challenging him to lie to her again. “Honest Hermione, you should take the bed.”

“Really Charlie, because the couch isn’t that comfortable and I’m up half the night anyway.” She glanced at the bedroom and then surprised him by saying. “Besides the bed is large enough for the two of us.”

Charlie was sure Hermione slept on the couch most nights still, but after several months without sleeping in a proper bed, he couldn’t bring himself to talk her out of it. It was becoming more and more clear that unless they did something their relationship would not be ending anytime soon. Sometimes it was better just to accept her kindness.

Their flat became a mecca for delivery owls. With each new letter, Hermione beamed, reading out loud the questions which had been poised. She was invited to meet with several officials. It was the first time Hermione had been permitted in public in months.Charlie, her constant bodyguard, spent his days gripping his wand anxiously and surveying the room, assessing the danger. It didn’t take more than a couple of days for Gawain’s predictions to come true. At first, it was a man who seemed a little lost, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. Harmless looking but he still scurried away when Charlie put his arm around Hermione and glared in his direction. From there they seemed to be everywhere and constant. Never interacting, never attempting anything, they simply were there monitoring their every movement, as if to remind them that they had not escaped and that they were not alone.

While Charlie had never been more tense while out with Hermione, the eyes upon them seemed nothing to dissuade Hermione from her work. In fact, if Charlie wasn’t mistaken, she seemed to relish in the fact that they wouldn’t touch her. She walked around as if she were bragging, taunting them. They seemed to fuel her even though their body language bordered on gloating when Hermione and Charlie walked out of a meeting without taking any further steps, without the support of another needed member of the Wizarding Council.

It was exhausting, but whenever he felt like taking a day off, suggesting they stay at home, Hermione’s rabid energy revitalized him. As long as he was in this he was determined to see it through. The meetings seemed hopeful at first, cabinet members listening with rapt attention as Hermione spoke in fast Italian. They would jot notes and listen to her lectures with uninterrupted attention. Hermione left feeling braver and a little more reckless. She would follow up with letters at night, thanking them for meeting with her and outlining a plan of action for them to move forward on.

Charlie wasn’t quite sure when but it seemed all at once Hermione went from being able to walk into any office she wanted to not even getting an owl back with a standard response. Overnight her presence was no longer welcomed in the ministry and instead of fancy offices and long meetings they were given aides in cramped cubicles who didn’t even pay attention while they took quick notes and ushered them out.

“They’re not doing anything,” Hermione muttered as she paced the floor of their living room. “They don’t care, they don’t even what to hear it.”

“Of course they don’t want to hear it,” Charlie answered in a tone he hoped would be calming.

This hadn’t been the first time Hermione had worked for weeks for a meeting only to be shut down and hurried out of an office. Over the past few months, it had become so common in fact Charlie was beginning to think Hermione only had two moods: anxiously preparing for a meeting or angrily ranting about how poorly the meeting had gone. The former Hermione was up all hours of the night writing letters and running things over with him. The latter took to drinking more and muttering under her breath as she still wrote furiously and waited for her next stroke of brilliance.

“Hermione-“

“They don’t care!” she screamed again, her eyes flashing dangerously. “They don’t care that woman are being held as slaves. They don’t care they’re trying to wipe out an entire generation of muggle-borns, they don’t care and it’s all happening under their noses!”

“They don’t care because it’s not affecting them,” Charlie said slowly, trying to calm her. It wasn’t their first time having this same conversation. “As long as it stays out of their homes and offices and doesn’t affect them they won’t do anything.”

“That’s stupid,” Hermione muttered, finally lowering her voice which Charlie always saw as a good sign in his experience of calming Hermione down.

“Think about it,” he said, reaching for the bottle of fire whiskey on the table and refilling the empty cup Hermione had previously slammed on the table. “They didn’t do anything when Voldemort had taken power. They don’t care until it’s on their side of the border.”

His words had an effect on Hermione he had never seen before. Instead of pacing, instead of yelling, instead of getting red in the face and screaming at him Hermione did something he’d not seen her do in months. Hermione stared at him unblinkingly before collapsing into the sofa, her eyes still wide open.

“Hermione,” he tried in a softer tone but she didn’t react, staring at a blank space on the wall, unmoving.

“They don’t care,” she muttered.

“That’s not what I meant, I just-“

“I’m going to get killed and they don’t care.” She whispered in the same fearful tone. It sounded like a prediction.

He’d only meant to encourage her to work harder, to keep trying. That’s what they were doing, they were bringing this issue into the offices of those who could change the laws, who could do something. But something in her voice changed that night. Hermione didn’t spend her night scratching away at parchment and muttering to herself. Instead, when he offered to pour her a glass of wine she finished the entire bottle and retired early, curling up into a small ball in the bed and falling into a fitful sleep before he even joined her.


	15. Taken

Hermione didn’t do much for days after her latest rejection. While normally Hermione took less than a day to recover, making new plans and preparing for new meetings while drafting long articles, this time took her a fortnight. Charlie rarely saw her anymore without a bottle in her hand, laying in her bed and staring at the wall or sitting at the table with an uneaten plate in front of her. By the ninth day, he began to worry and thought to call in Ginny. She didn’t speak to him, didn’t speak to anyone. Her spirit seemed to have finally broken. The surge of energy and planning had been just a glimmer of the prior Hermione. This was the woman he’d married. The defeated, broken down woman who didn’t have much hope. 

He found her crying in the bedroom, laying down on her side and staring at a well-read note. He spotted his brother’s messy scrawl and the stack of parchment was worn and torn from being read over and over again. His heart broke watching her, and how could it not? Not knowing what to do, not knowing how to help her he lied down next to her and put a careful arm around her middle.

It had been six months since they’d been married. Six months since she’d fled from England and been placed in his care. Six months since she’d last spoken to the people who truly loved her. She sighed, her body melting into his and took his hand into hers. Her energy was different from anything he’d ever experienced before. When she turned over and captured his lips in a soft kiss he wasn’t surprised, and neither was she when his hands went into her hair.

It was one of the handful of times in their sexual relationship that Charlie felt as though she was thinking of someone else entirely while they fucked. Someone else who had a body built like his. Someone else with red hair and freckles. Someone else with the last name of Weasley and who would give anything for her. Charlie couldn’t bring himself to linger on being used in this way. They were hardly in love.

They lay in thick silence afterword, neither having the strength to move away or desire to speak about what had happened, about what this might mean. Charlie was thinking of how different the bed felt with her lying in it when she interrupted his thoughts entirely.

“I need to get myself kidnapped,” Hermione announced, still staring off at the wall.

“What?” Charlie asked in shock. He surely had to have heard her wrong. His purpose was to prevent just that.

“I need to get myself kidnapped,” Hermione repeated, looking over at him. “Remember what you said? They wouldn’t care unless it came into their house. I need to bring it to their house.”

He gaped at her. “Hermione you can’t be serious.”

“You said they wouldn’t do anything unless it was a threat to them.” She explained as if it were the most obvious answer thing in the word and he was stupid for not understanding her. “Well, let’s make it a threat to them.”

“And how would that even work?” he asked in disbelief. Surely this was some kind of post-coital fever dream.

“In order for anything to change it would have to be made an international incident.” She said. “I get them to kidnap me, it’ll make the papers everywhere.”

“Hermione,” he said placatingly. “No one is going to take notice to an attempted kidnap. They’ll just think you’ve staged it.”

“Not an attempted kidnap Charlie,” she said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “I’m talking about a real one.”

He sat there, stunned, staring at Hermione who looked too dangerous to say no to. Charlie understood suddenly how his brother had gotten into so much trouble at school. If he were listening to Hermione, and it seemed certainly hard to say no to her, then it was a wonder he hadn’t been expelled.

“You can’t be serious,” he gasped finally, waiting for her to snap out of it and laugh at him. Hermione shook her head no slowly. “Hermione, if they’re as dangerous as you say they are then how could you possibly think getting taken by them will solve anything?”

She rolled her eyes. It was clear she saw this as the most obvious solution in the world.

“Let’s take this to Gawain,” he begged, not knowing how on earth he was going to manage to talk her out of this. “Or even Harry or Ron-“

“No,” she said sharply. “I’m not talking to any of them about this.”

“Why?” Charlie asked, “Because you think they’ll try and talk you out of this?”

“No,” she said, but didn’t sound entirely honest. “Because they can’t know this is happening. It’ll look like everyone conspired to get me kidnapped for attention.”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing Hermione,” said Charlie, sounding annoyed.

Hermione sighed, slumping back against the pillow. “It’s been over a year Charlie,” she said softly. “I’ve been doing everything I can and it still hasn’t been enough. I can’t live the rest of my life with you walking around as my bodyguard and neither can you.”

She had a point. Though he’d only been involved for a few months in her mess, it had been a long time since this had started. He’d agreed, not out of fondness for Hermione but because he would always do something if Ginny asked and when they’d told him exactly what was going on how could he not. But these past few months had been taxing on him too. He didn’t have a life anymore. His life was protecting the woman sitting next to him and Charlie knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn’t take it anymore.

He missed dragons and other dangerous creatures. He missed going somewhere without having to answer back to Hermione. He missed having a life that didn’t revolve around watching over his shoulder to make sure someone wasn’t about to attack. Charlie knew how miserable these past few months had been for him, he couldn’t possibly imagine being the one with a target on his back. She was right. This couldn’t go on for forever.

“Okay,” he said finally against his better judgment, rubbing his temple. “If we were to do this, and I’m not saying I’m agreeing, then how would this work?”

Hermione beamed at him.

 

In the end, they decided Hermione needed to make herself as public as possible prior to her kidnapping. She needed to make it known she was an English muggleborn living in Italy and who feared for her life. The letters she wrote grew longer and more frequent. Every day she spent outside of the offices of the lawmakers, begging for a meeting. Anyone who would listen she would talk to and every day she kept the same pattern. It would make it easier to be kidnapped, she told Charlie in a matter which made him think it wasn’t her first experience in staking someone out.

After two weeks Hermione began to see the same dozen people following them each day. She pointed them out to Charlie as they walked around the market at lunch and in the hall on their way back to the minster’s office. It made Charlie pull her closer as if he could physically shield her from the dangerous path she was throwing herself into.

“Tomorrow you should come down with a cold,” Hermione told him one night over dinner. “You know, show all the symptoms and then disappear mid-day.”

Though this had been their plan for weeks, at the thought of going through with it Charlie found himself suddenly hesitant. It had been months since he’d let Hermione out of his sight. The idea of doing it midday in the middle of the Ministry seemed so wrong. Hermione seemed to sense his hesitation and reminded him.

“You don’t want to be married to me forever do you?”

Charlie grinned despite himself. “Ginny’s going to kill me when she finds out.”

At Hermione’s suggestion, Charlie stayed up most of the night in order to make it look more convincing he wasn’t feeling well. Not that the suggestions were needed. He stayed up half the night anyway, worrying about what might go wrong the next day. Together they went to the ministry at eight, parked themselves outside of a senior cabinet official, they’d been making their way down the hallway, a new one each day, and observed a rather ugly looking man who looked out of place walk by every fifteen minutes to ensure they were still there.

“You’d think he’d change his appearance or something,” Charlie muttered to Hermione as she fished through her bag for a tissue. She glanced up at him and shuddered at the sight.

“You can feel the dark magic on him,” she murmured as he walked out of sight again.

They went together for lunch, sitting in their usual booth at the back of a diner and staged a loud conversation for the benefit of another patron who had entered the same time as they and wasn’t eating. Instead, he sat with a paper in front of him but his eyes weren’t moving and he waved the waitress away when she tried to take his order. This was what they’d been waiting for.

“You should go home,” Hermione insisted of him. “You’re sick. You won’t do any good staying out all day.”

“I feel fine. Besides, if we don’t stay on Moretti he’ll say we forfeited our place in the queue and won’t give us an appointment for another week.” He reasoned.

“Charlie,” Hermione whined, loving at him with large and concerned eyes. “Please go home, you look ill. Get some rest, I’ll be fine.”

Charlie glanced around the room suspiciously. “Hermione,” he had dropped his voice so low no one but them could hear. “What if something happens?”

He saw the man sitting at the other table lean in, looking almost eager. They were taking the bait. Charlie felt a real rush of fear.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, but her eyes were wide with fear too. “I swear Charlie, nothing’s going to happen to me.”

Though this had been their plan he still felt more reluctant than ever to leave her. He knew she had a second wand on her only she could unbind from her skin. He knew she had taken a numbing potion so any pain would be greatly diminished. He knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught off guard and this would happen anyway. This way it was happening on their terms. He walked her back to the ministry and ushered her in the door, they’d decided the best plan was for it to happen while she was literally inside of the government building, before giving her a nervous kiss and walking back out into the crisp autumn air.

Once back at their empty home the anxiety properly kicked in. Though he’d been feeling rather tired all day the adrenaline of knowing what was about to happen and not being there to witness it was terrifying. There was no turning back now. Hermione was right, they couldn’t live like this forever. He tried to nap but found himself unable to, constantly checking his watch and willing for the crawling time to move faster. He rehearsed the words he would say in his head.

“We’ve been trying for months,” he muttered, trying to sound desperate and sad and bring tears to his eyes. “I left her here, at the ministry. I thought she’d be safe there at least. How could we allow such an atrocity to happen?”

And at a quarter till four Charlie buttoned up his traveling cloak, parked himself in front of a clock, and waited. Ten minutes till, five, and then the clock turned and Hermione did not arrive. A surge of panic rushed through Charlie. He had known this was the plan, the one they’d talked over for days but it still came as a shock to him for four ten to pass and Hermione not be in his presence. At twenty past four, ten minutes earlier than planned but unable to wait any longer, Charlie left the home and departed for the Italian ministry to raise hell.


	16. Reunited

The next few days were some of the longest and busiest Charlie had ever experienced. He hadn’t needed to act when he stood in front of reporter after reporter giving his story again. How Hermione had warned the ministry about what was happening in England. How she had felt someone watching her for days. How afraid she had been that she was going to be kidnapped only to have it happen right under the ministry’s nose. He begged whoever was holding her to give them a sign, anything to show she was still alive. He would do anything to get her back. 

“She’s spent the last months trying to warn them this was going to happen,” Charlie said with a low hoarse voice. “I don’t understand why no one has acted. This has been going on for a year, a year and no one has done anything to stand up for the innocent Muggle-borns who want nothing more than to practice the gifts they are born with and live the lives they are entitled to!”

Gawain showed up the same day and hadn’t slept either, running in and out of meetings with the English minister, demanding answers as to why the many letters Hermione had sent pleading for help had not only been unanswered but often unopened.

“What will it take for you to acknowledge a real threat?” he roared at the Italian minister on the second morning. They were packed in his office with Kingsley and half of the cabinet. Gawain was leaning onto the minister's desk, screaming at his face. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get ample warning because that’s exactly what Hermione was trying to do when she was kidnapped from your doorstep!”

“Are you implying I’m to take every single threat seriously? How was I to know that girl was serious? For all, I know she could have been another-“

“Her name is Hermione Granger,” Kinglsey said in a soft tone, but his deep booming voice cut through the yelling and silenced the room. “Hermione helped to defeat Lord Voldemort. A wizard you ignored and was months away from taking over your ministry too while you sat there twiddling your thumbs. After which Hermione has been working in your country for the past five years repealing house elf laws. A job which put her in front of your Wizarding Court dozens of times, in front of you, minster. Please don’t do her the disservice of referring to her as _that girl_ when she is more powerful and brave than you have ever been Minister.”

There was a resounding silence. Charlie smirked despite himself. Kingsley was right, Hermione was much braver than the highest elected official in this country. She was braver than most of the men in this room put together. The Italian minister sunk back into his chair, measuring Kingsley with his eyes. It was clear he’d been backed into a corner and was determining his next move. He looked like a dragon about to take flight.

“Even so-“

“What are you doing about trying to find my wife?” Charlie cut through, knowing this would be the best time to do it. His face was back to the anxious expression he’d worn all day.

The minister looked over at him as if surprised to see Charlie in the room. The dangerous, fearful look disappeared and if Charlie wasn’t mistaken there was a look of pity in his eyes.

“We are working on drafting a statement demanding these laws be repealed,” he said quietly, still looking only at Charlie. “Should they not act then we will take more aggressive measures against England’s government.”

Finally. Charlie nodded, his insides giving a great lurch as the words which he’d been waiting for for months were spoken. Hermione had been right. They were finally doing something.

Charlie played the dutiful husband, sharing pictures of her and stories of their lives together. “I just want to know she’s safe,” he said with tears in his eyes at the end of a marathon press session. Twenty four hours had passed and the crowd seemed to double every time he gave interviews. This was now an international incident.

By the end of the third day, Charlie wanted nothing more than for the ordeal to be over. He was exhausted, having not slept or properly eaten since the day Hermione had disappeared. And though he knew it was about to be over, that Hermione had done everything she’d predicted and more, Charlie still found himself feeling helpless and lost while he waited for the spell they’d worked out as a sign to lead him to her. He couldn’t know if she was properly safe. From the stories, she told him, even with their best-laid plans she, Harry and Ron often had resorted to drastic actions when everything had failed. Without Harry and Ron to protect her she was more vulnerable than ever.

Relief finally came when he was answering the final questions of the day on the stone steps of the entrance to the ministry. He was retelling the story of how they’d snuck her out of the country only hours before she was due to be summoned when a burst of light came streaking through the crowd and landed in front of him. Hermione couldn’t have timed it better. A silver otter which uttered Hermione’s frightened but steady voice to a large crowd of reporters who watched with bated breath. 

“I’ve escaped,” Hermione’s voice said quietly. “I’m near George’s shop. Charlie, please hurry.”

The mass exodus of press members was really something to witness Charlie thought later as he disapparated on the spot and found himself stumbling in London. Several reporters had beat him there and were talking in hurried voices at Hermione who looked worse for the wear. Charlie ran towards her, relief dawning over his face as she threw his arms around her and she embraced him tightly.

“I was so worried,” he shouted in her ear, unable to stop shaking as he held her, aware of the flashes of photographers getting the perfect image for the next day’s post.

Hermione began to sob in his arms and Charlie held her tightly as questions were shouted at them. Eventually, Gawain organized the crowd, shielding Hermione as they spoke in low voices.

“I’m okay,” Hermione said loudly, her voice still shaking and her hand still in Charlie’s. “I managed a wand yesterday and I just-“ she sounded very choked up. “They said they were going to kill me and made all these awful threats.”

Charlie wasn’t acting when he wrapped a protective arm around her and kissed her forehead.

Gawain and Kingsley managed the crowd while they made an escape into the store. Inside, George was standing with an anxious expression which cleared when he hugged Hermione.

“I thought they’d gotten you,” he whispered to her horsely. He too looked worse than the last time Charlie had seen him. The months without his wife and children were wearing on him too.

Hermione glanced back at the crowd and then winked at him. “We’ll explain everything later. Mind if we use your floo?”

Bewildered, George nodded and Hermione squeezed his hand before exiting into the back of the shop. They rendezvoused at the Potters. Ginny, as Charlie had predicted, was livid with him. Though she couldn’t have been back in the country for more than an hour she spent very little time with Harry and instead laid into him until Hermione was able to rescue him by demanding to see her nephew.

James looked much older than Charlie could have imagined. It seemed like just yesterday Ginny was giving birth, crying for Harry and looking at James as if he was a stranger’s. James didn’t leave his father’s arms as they all gathered in the kitchen to talk. Hermione told them she needed to wait until Gawain arrived and washed her face, revealing a much more refreshed look. When Ron barged into the kitchen, puffy-eyed and looking as sleep deprived as Charlie felt, he held Hermione for longer than Charlie or Harry had combined, whispering words to one another no one else could hear. Gawain and Kingsley joined them and the settled around the table, all watching Hermione anxiously as she beamed at them. She cast a silencing spell before speaking, explaining exactly what had happened.

True to her plan, Hermione had been kidnapped when she went to the loo not twenty minutes after she’d returned to the ministry without Charlie. They had taken her to a run-down home in France and then to England. On the second day, she had stunned them and sat, waiting until the furor was at its peak to make her escape.

“Hermione,” Harry gasped when they finished speaking. His mouth was hanging open. “That was really dangerous.”

He sat to the right of Ron, James cuddled in his arms. Since Ginny had returned she had told Charlie he would hardly put James down even to sleep. “I’m glad to see him making up for lost time but I would like to hold my son every once in a while,” she joked with him.

Hermione laughed again, shooting him a look. “Like you haven’t done something so dangerous.”

“Hermione,” Harry said again in disbelief and she rolled her eyes.

“You remember how Fudge was after the third task.” She said in a firm voice. “Even with all of the information right in front of him, he wouldn’t accept it as fact. Since I’ve left I’ve been going to all of them every day, telling them someone was after me, telling them what was going on. They simply didn’t care.”

“How’d you come up with the idea?” Ginny asked of her.

“It was something Charlie said,” said Hermione, beaming over at him. He was seated on her left side and had been largely quiet through the explanation. “ _They won’t care until it comes knocking at their doors._ Well, what better way than being kidnapped under their own noses?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ron asked. He was still very pale. “We’ve been worried sick.”

“If I had told any of you then eventually it would have come out that we were all conspiring to stage a kidnapping for publicity. This way your reactions were natural. None of you have to feel guilty now because it’s all over with and we won.” Hermione told him, but it was in a calmer tone then she had spoken with Harry. “What’s more is you would have tried to talk me out of it.”

Gawain and Kingsley took their turns questioning them at length before settling back. It seemed everyone had come to the consensus that while the plan had been foolishly risky it had worked. Now their only concern was to ensure that the public was never in the know.

“Anyway, once the laws are fully repealed I’ll be able to move back to England,” she said, beaming over at Ron and Harry who smiled at the thought. Charlie watched as Ron grasped Hermione’s hand under the table.

Gawain watched this too with narrowed eyes and cleared his throat before he spoke.

“I think it’s best that you stay married for the time,” he said in a decided tone.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, dropped their hands and then looked over at Gawain in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Until this is all repealed until we are certain this rebellion is quashed then it would be best to continue the narrative that you and Charlie are in a happy, loving relationship and these laws would prevent you from being together.” He spoke only to Hermione who’s face fell with every word.

“You and Ron’s relationship was never a secret. We were able to keep the rumors down that your relationship resumed during theblood law but only just.” Kingsley spoke now.“If people begin to suspect you two did this all to be together I’m afraid the balance will shift in their favor. People don’t like being lied to.”

“How long?” Hermione asked of them, unable to look at Charlie or even Ron. “How long do you think we should maintain a relationship?”

Kingsley and Gawain shared a look with Harry who nodded and spoke softly. “At least five years.”

Five years. Charlie could feel Hermione’s heart breaking beside him. After all this, after everything they’d done to ensure the laws would be repealed so they would be free to resume the lives they wanted. Only to be told to keep the chance for others they would have to continue to masquerade happiness. And then he realized what this meant for him too. She would not be the only one living a lie. The next five years was his prison too.

When he finally looked over, Hermione had tears in her eyes but looked at Kingsley and Gawain with a steely resolve. “Alright, is there anything more you think we should be doing in the meantime?”

“We’d like you to both do interviews with the papers in the coming days.” Gawain looked over at Charlie and Hermione and seemed to sense how tired they both were. “But there’s nothing more we can do tonight. I’m sure you’re both itching to shower and get some rest.”

There was a mummer of consensus and Harry rose with Gawain and Kingsley to speak with them in the other room, James still cradled in his arms. Charlie looked at Hermione from the corner of his eye who was staring at Ron. They seemed to be having a silent conversation. When Ginny caught his eye they both rose, moving to the other side of the kitchen.

“I'm so sorry Charlie,” Ginny whispered at once. “If I thought this was going to happen-“

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, wrapping a protective arm around her. “Really, I like Hermione, being married to her isn’t awful or anything.” He glanced back over at Ron and Hermione who were now speaking in hushed tones. “Besides, I’m not just doing it for you.”

Ginny glanced over at the two of them, now with their foreheads pressed together and Ron’s hand on the back of Hermione’s neck. “I wish he’d leave her, now that all this is over.” Ginny adopted a pained look on her face and sighed. “Just wait until you meet Annabelle.”

“I met her once, remember?” Charlie said. He thought back to the birthday party she’d been dragged to and how needy she’d been. “Is she as awful as I remember?”

Ginny rolled her eyes and then lowered her voice so Ron and Hermione couldn’t hear her. Charlie didn’t see the point, they were both so entranced with talking to one another he didn’t think they’d notice if a dragon flew in. “Mum says she’s been awful since Ron ran out on the ceremony to see Hermione. She’s always resented Hermione for existing in Ron’s past now she resents that Hermione’s the only reason they got married.”

“Hermione isn’t the reason they got married,” Charlie answered, feeling thoroughly confused. “If he hadn’t who knows what might have happened to her.”

“I’ll leave you to tell her that then,” Ginny said sarcastically.

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her. “I missed you, little sister.” 

 


	17. Ending

The reunion at the Burrow the following day felt as if years had passed since Ron’s wedding, the day they were all whisked apart. Charlie had to remind himself it had only been months since his entire family had been whole. When Angelina arrived with the kids, George had run out of the house, scooping his family into his arms and Charlie witnessed him crying into Angelina's shoulder while they embraced. He didn’t let the kids out of his sight for the rest of the day. 

Mum was so happy to see them all she kept pulling them into bone-crushing hugs. She was as livid as anyone else at Hermione and him for putting themselves in such danger but Charlie knew deep down she was just as relieved as any of them for it all to finally be over. The only person who wasn’t exuberant was Ron’s wife, Annabelle. Charlie had only met her once before, at a family birthday party for Ron. She was just as moody as ever and spent her afternoon sulking in a corner, refusing to be drawn into the conversation and watching Ron with narrow eyes whenever he so much as glanced at Hermione.

Ginny had warned him this was how she would react. She didn’t even seem pleased that the laws were being repealed, and after all wasn’t she a muggleborn too? Wasn’t she in as much danger as anyone? Hermione had told him what had happened when she refused to attend her summons. Charlie thought she ought to be much happier about being free. Just after dinner, she left after an angry conversation with Ron just outside the door where everyone could hear them. Charlie didn’t say anything, but Ron looked much happier once she had departed.

They stayed until almost one in the morning, catching each other up on what had happened in their months apart and relishing in each other’s company. The kids were asleep all over the house, resting in their parent's arms or tucked away in Ginny’s old bedroom. Yes, it was good to be back with family. It had been a long time since they had been in one place without the threat of attack. Charlie wondered briefly exactly when it became normal for them all to fear for their lives.

Settled into the living room, Dominque asleep at his side, Charlie chanced a glance over at Hermione. She was sandwiched between Ron and Harry on a small couch. Her head was tipping toward Harry and she looked exhausted but still quite pleased with herself. When she caught Charlie looking she smiled warmly at him.

Charlie knew he wasn’t romantically in love with Hermione. He knew she was always marked for his brother and he knew he would never measure up to Ron. Still, he would be hard pressed to find a better companion in life. Hermione was brilliant and kind, fierce and determined. If her kidnapping had proven anything to him it was that once Hermione set her mind to something she would go to any and all lengths to accomplish it. Not for the first time Charlie wished Hermione hadn’t fallen in love with his brother. He could have seen a very happy life with her.

The rest of their time in England was spent in interviews, stealing time away at the Burrow whenever they could, but mostly within the confines of the ministry and the Potter’s home. While Charlie hadn’t minded the interviews at first, there were only so many times he could tell the same false story of falling in love with Hermione over the years and how frightened he had been when she’d been kidnapped. It was exhausting, watching the same sympathetic expressions play out again and again in the faces of the reporters as they nodded and asked easy questions. Charlie found comfort in Hermione who after interviews would make sour faces and they’d mock the rhythm of the reporters' voices.

He was glad when the month ended and the interviews were shorter and shorter as their story was beginning to become old news. The laws were repealed and the women being freed provided fresher narratives than the now overplayed kidnapping story. It gave Charlie and Hermione time to talk about their future, talk about what was going to come next. He supposed he hadn’t thought about it because it seemed as though it was never going to end.

When he pressed this to Hermione she shrugged. “I don’t think it ever really ends. If my time in the magical world has taught me anything it’s that there’s always someone else who thinks they can take over the world.”

Charlie simply hugged her, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t imagine living through what she had and still being so brave.

In the end, they decided to give up the safe house in Italy and settle in Croatia where she could commute to Italy for work and he could return to Romania for the dragons. They decided to announce this to the family at dinner. Bill and Fleur were returning to France, they were lifting the charms on George’s flat above the store and life was returning to normal. They were beaten to the announcement, however, by Annabelle. She hadn’t let Ron away from her side all night and had been extra needy. When the dinner was almost over she elbowed Ron expectantly who yelped out in surprise and then stared at her, confused. After a moment it dawned on his face and he seemed suddenly unable to look down the side of the table where Hermione was chatting with Ginny three seats down.

“We um, we have something to tell everyone,” Ron said softly after clearing his throat. “We, well, we’re expecting.”

Silence followed his statement as they all gaped at him before their father had the sense to smile and say. “Congratulations son.”

The room erupted in well wishes and Charlie looked down the table to find Hermione, open-mouthed, staring at Ron as if he’d just told her he was dying. She didn’t recover in time before Ron looked over at her, mouthing something to her. Aware others were looking at her she stood up quietly and disappeared out the door, not to be seen for the rest of the night.

 

He found her crying in the shower of their shared bathroom. He hadn’t known she was in there and went in to brush his teeth when he came upon her, sitting on the floor with hot water beating on her back.

“Are you okay?” he asked her softly and she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes and didn’t need her words to convey how miserable she was.

He reached in to turn off the water and then helped her out of the tub, wrapping a towel around her. She still looked rather defeated, sitting on the edge of the tub but was staring at him now as if trying to decide something.

Charlie wasn’t the least surprised when she kissed him nor was he surprised by what followed: her hands in his hair, kissing his body but not looking at his face. She didn’t seem to know she was crying until he reached down and wiped the tears from her eyes and he knew she wasn’t thinking about him at all. When they finished he wondered if he should leave but she settled down into the curve of his body and pulled his hand over her middle.

“Do you want children?” she asked of him as they lay intertwined after a rather lengthy silence.

“Do you?” Charlie asked back.

Hermione didn’t seem to breathe for a moment and then sighed. “That’s not the question. You’re the one doing me a favor in all of this.”

“I’m not doing you a favor Hermione,” he said back, feeling slightly hurt that was all this was to her.

Hermione let out a huff and then rolled over to face him. “Don’t tell me you planned to spend your thirties married to your youngest bother’s ex. You’re stuck with me and that’s a favor. All I’m asking you is if you want children.”

She sounded resigned as if she were finally accepting that this was her life. As if she hadn’t considered a life with him until now.

“We don’t have to have children,” he told her softly, reaching out a tentative hand to brush back her hair. “We’re in this relationship for a reason and an important one. We don’t have to have children, our relationship is already important enough.”

Hermione closed her eyes but allowed him to keep stroking her hair. “If you want children, let me know. We’d need to start soon, I’ve already lost two.”

Charlie sat straight up in bed, staring at her. “What?”

She looked at him quizzically. “Hasn't anyone told you?” she asked. He shook his head, dumbfounded. “That’s why I ended things with Ron the first time.”

“He ended things with you because you had a miscarriage?” Charlie asked, feeling more stupid by the second.

Hermione let out a small laugh however and shook her head. “No, I ended things with him. It felt like things were moving too quickly like the universe had decided I was going to be a Weasley and I had no say in it.” The corners of her mouth changed suddenly and in a much more somber tone, she added. “Looks like the universe won in the end.”

“And the second?” Charlie asked,

“On the day we got married,” she told him with a deep frown. “I’m surprised Ginny didn’t tell you. I left the bed from my operation to do the ceremony. That’s why I was so pale and shaky.”

Charlie felt suddenly as if the world had dropped from under his feet. No wonder she’d been so miserable the first month after they’d gotten married. No wonder she cried for hours after helping Ginny give birth. As he watched Hermione staring at him expectantly he realized she was still waiting for an answer to her question.

“Do you want children?” he managed finally and Hermione frowned and shook her head.

“I think there’s so much to do, having children would take time away from my work,” said Hermione. “But if you want them then I think that’s the least I can do for you. After all, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

He smiled at her and then was struck with a thought. “Do you want children with _me_?”

She sensed his tone and turned away from him. He didn’t miss the catch in her voice when she answered. “Do you really want the answer to that?”

That answered the question then. He wondered if Ron knew how lucky he was to have such an amazing woman to be in love with him. But he supposed he had to know to have put her through all of this, to ask so much of his brother. Unable to stop himself, Charlie found himself asking about Annabelle. Even if Hermione had to stay married to him he wondered why his brother had ever gone off and married such a miserable woman in the first place.

“Because I forced him to,” Hermione answered when he put this to her. “He was ready to run off with me but I knew it was hopeless so I told him I didn’t have a choice and he ought to keep her safe.”

“He must have known that was a lie,” Charlie answered.

“Yes,” she agreed, “but I managed to fool him until he went down the aisle. I knew I wouldn’t make it out alive if I didn’t leave and he was the only one who was too stubborn to agree. So I lied to him, I told him to keep her safe, I told him I didn’t love him and when he professed his love to me again I told him he ought to be faithful.”

“Do you think he will be?” Charlie murmured.

Hermione looked at him for a moment as if she’d been posed with the question for the first time. There was a hint of a smile on her face, but it disappeared. “Ron’s the best sort of guy. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt someone else,” she said quietly. “He’s going to be a father after all.”

It didn’t need to be said that both occupants of the bed knew this baby was no coincidence, no accident considering Hermione had just come back to the country and Annabelle certainly had not gotten pregnant in the past three years of them dating. Charlie saw how angrily Annabelle looked at Hermione.

“Do you think she knows you told him to?” Charlie asked.

“Yes,” Hermione admitted. “I think she knows if it wasn’t for me they wouldn’t be married and I think she resents me for it. They broke up because she caught me kissing him the night I got back from Italy.” Hermione was quiet for a moment and then added. “All of my other sister in laws like me, I guess I can’t just win them all over.”

“I think you might be mum’s favorite too,” Charlie offered, placing a kiss on her temple.

Hermione laughed. “Believe me I’m very happy to be a Weasley.”

Charlie smiled, feeling not for the first time a sense of contentment at the prospect of spending the next few years with Hermione. “I suppose we should tell everyone in the morning we’re leaving at the end of the week.”

“I suppose,” Hermione agreed softly. “I can’t just stay here forever.”

She looked around the room she’d occupied for the months she’d stayed with the Potters. Charlie could only imagine what was going through her head as she settled down on her pillow. Tomorrow a whole new life would start for them, a whole new life outside of the bubble of fear they’d been living in. Hermione had accomplished her goal and he had been the consolation prize. As he lay there, drifting off to sleep he wondered what would come next for them. Certainly, he’d never expected this life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you to everyone who has supported me along the way! I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to give feedback and kudos. It's with all of the encouragement which has inspired me to keep writing and finish this story which has spent a long time in my head. I hope you enjoyed the journey and will stick around for the sequel, Liberation, which the first chapter is currently posted! -Roy


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